The Worst Case
by MoonGCyn
Summary: A tragedy happens to one of the NCIS agents. One that would not be wished upon anyone. Will it change his life forever? Will anyone be able to help him? All done! PLANNED REWRITE/EDIT SOON TO TAKE PLACE
1. Down With America

**A/N: hello everyone. I am new to NCIS fanfics but not in general. I usually do anime fics like Digimon and Yu Yu Hakusho but I recently read a fic about NCIS that has inspired me to write one of my own. The first chapter is a bit brutal and well deserving of the rating M, mainly because of the rape scene. I apologize if this chapter seems a bit harsh but believe me; it was painful for me to write. He's my favorite character and I hated doing this to him but it was the only thing that fit with this that made it work in my head. So here you go and rest assured that I will try to keep the details to a minimum.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or the characters belonging to it. I do own the extra characters, like the doctor, the thugs and such. **

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**Chapter One: Down With America**

_He walked down the street, heading to the bakery a couple blocks down from his apartment building. Today seemed like a good enough day for him to walk instead of taking his car. It was a bright, sunny day with hardly any clouds in the light blue sky. The wind was soft and cool, perfect for this kind of day._

_As he walked down the sidewalk, he noticed a group of men standing in a small group in front of the alleyway. As he walked passed them, one of the men looked up and stared at him, no, glared at him. Confused, he continued on passed, shifting his gaze from the man to the bakery at the end of sidewalk and across the street. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that the man was still watching him._

_Feeling uneasy, he quickly crossed the street and entered the bakery. The smells of freshly baked bread engulfed him like a warm, doughy blanket and seemed to calm his nerves a great deal. Shaking the man from his thoughts, he walked up to the counter and waited behind a woman and her two children as they fought over what to order._

_When it was his turn, he decided to get a cinnamon bun and a cup of coffee. His mouth watered as he thought of the warm, freshly baked bun covered in melted glaze and cinnamon. He took his order and sat down at a small table in front of the store window. As he ate, he watched all of the different people walking by his window. A man walked passed, carrying a small, white bag with the bakery's logo on it; a woman walked passed, talking on her cell phone and searching through her purse at the same time; a young couple walked passed, arm in arm, laughing and seeming so carefree; a woman walked passed with her child in hand, who glanced at him and smiled and waved. He smiled and waved back, watching as her and her mother crossed the street._

_As he watched them, his gaze drifted to the alley where he had seen those men. They were nowhere to be seen. He shifted in his seat but still couldn't see them. 'Maybe they had gotten tired of whatever they were doing and left.' he thought. He shrugged and placed the last of the cinnamon bun in his mouth and drained the rest of his coffee before getting up and throwing the empty cup and napkin in the trash. Thanking the baker, he left the bakery and headed back to his apartment building, wondering what he was going to do for the rest of the day._

_As he walked, he suddenly got an eerie feeling, like he was being watched; no, like he was being followed. As he walked, he glanced sideways at the window of a car and saw them. There were three of them, three of the men from the alley he had seen earlier. Alarmed, he shifted his gaze forward and continued walking at as much of a normal pace as he could so as not to let them know he had noticed them. His mind raced with ideas of what he could do if it came down to a confrontation when he realized that he had left his gun and badge at home. He didn't think he would need them for the short walk to and from the bakery so he hadn't brought them. Now he wished he had._

_As he tried to keep his heart from bursting from his chest and the panic from erupting, he failed to notice the rest of the men emerge from the alley until their arms wrapped around his body and he was pulled into the alley. He struggled as a pair of arms tightened around his mouth and upper body and another pair wrapped around his legs and lifted him up. They carried him deep into the alley, passed several large green dumpsters before they let him go, throwing him against the wall where he landed with a painful thud._

_When he looked up, he saw them standing in a small half circle around him, preventing him from escaping. There were eight of them, he noticed, all wearing black hooded sweaters and baggy black or blue jeans and white t-shirts with an American flag and a sword protruding from the center. Over the flag were words that said "Down With America" in big red letters._

_Tearing his gaze from their shirts, he looked up into the face of the man in front of him, seeing the hatred in his eyes and the sneer on his lips. He was bigger and taller than the others, burly and muscular and apparently the leader. The man turned his head and nodded to two of the men, who nodded in return and walked to the end of the alley. They grabbed two large dumpsters and used them to block the mouth of the alley from the people on the street, before coming back. Then he looked back at the man in time to see him lunge at him. The man grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him from the ground before whirling around and slamming him into the opposite wall with such force that his head snapped back and hit the wall._

_Stars danced in front of his eyes as the man leaned in close and whispered in his ear loud enough for the rest to hear, "You're a cop." Then he leaned even closer and whispered so that only he could hear, "N. C. I. S." Then the man brought his fist up into his stomach, causing him to double in pain before another blow connected with his ribs and he fell to the ground. Suddenly his body burst with pain all over as the men kicked at his stomach and his ribs and his legs. He felt a sharp pain and heard a few sounds that sounded horrifyingly like snapping bones._

_After a few moments that seemed like forever, the men finally stopped kicking him and he hoped that it was finally over when one man grabbed him from behind and pulled him up to his knees, pulling his arms behind his back. He tried to take in as much air as his broken ribs would allow, but before he could get a good enough amount, the man reached around him and roughly yanked the front of his pants. He felt his belt snap and heard the button of his jeans clink as it hit the ground. Then his pants and boxers were roughly yanked down to his ankles and his legs were spread._

_He knew what was coming next but knowing didn't help the pain that erupted as the man forced himself inside him, tearing through his flesh with such force and brutality that he couldn't stop the urge to cry out. Before he could, however, he was stopped by another man shoving himself into his mouth, causing him to choke and gag. "If you bite me, I'll kill you." He said before shoving himself further in. As the men took turns ravaging his body, darkness crept along the corners of his eyes, threatening to take him. As it did, his mind wandered, traveling out of the alley and across the city to a building. He knew this building, knew some of the people in it, people that could help him, people that could save him. His mind drifted through the doors and into a room filled with desks and people. One desk he imagined as temporarily empty and another was occupied by a man sitting in an office chair with his legs up on the desk. Across from him he imagined a woman wearing a Star of David necklace sitting with her back to the other man and fingering a nasty looking knife. In the desk beside her, he imagined the person he desperately wanted to find him. He was old looking but still looked like he could take a bullet or two with little to no sweat. This man was…_

_He was brought back to the scene at hand as the men pulled out and let him drop to the ground. He heard them walk away, heading toward the entrance of the alley, when one man leaned over him. He recognized the voice as belonging to the leader as he pressed himself against him and whispered into his ear, "Tell anyone what happened, and not only will you receive a reenactment, but so will they. You've been warned, Cop." Then he was gone._

_As he lay there in that alley, darkness consuming him, he managed to utter a single word. "Gibbs."_

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**A/N: Sorry for this everyone. But the next chapters will be better and longer. Keep in mind that this is a tragic/hurt type of story so there is bound to be some pain. Sorry but yeah. Please read and review and tell me what you think. Thanks.**


	2. The Warning

**A/N: hey everyone. Thanks for the reviews. First I want to apologize for the graphicness of the last chapter. Believe it or not but I had rewritten that chapter several times before I finally posted it. I edited it as much as I could but if you have any suggestions of how to edit it better without sounding confusing, please let me know.**

**Well, just letting you know that this story will not be as graphic as chapter one. Also, there are a few things in here that I don't know if they happen the way they do but I just wrote it anyway so bare with me. Thanks. Well here's chapter two.**

**Disclaimers are in chapter one.**

**Chapter Two: The Warning**

Tim sat up as his clock screeched its annoying alarm at him. He didn't get any sleep at all last night. He tried everything from reading to writing his book to watching TV to surfing the net. He even tried just walking around his apartment for a while drinking warm milk but nothing seemed to work. He just couldn't get to sleep.

Sighing, he turned off his alarm, got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He turned on the water to the shower, stripped off his clothes and stepped in. he winced as the water hit his back, the force of the spray hitting against the bruises that had formed there. Flashes of the day before played through his head as he soaped up his body.

_***Flashback***_

He had felt so dirty and uncomfortable but most of all, he felt humiliated. His body ached as he dragged himself home. When he got to his apartment, he shut the door and made sure to lock it before going around and locking all of the windows, even though he was on the fifth floor. Then he had gone into the bathroom and showered, letting the hot water burn away all traces of the past several hours. He could feel the bruises starting to form as he washed the cuts clean. The cuts stung from the soap as he washed himself, taking extra care to clean every inch of his body. But no matter how hard he scrubbed, he just couldn't feel clean.

When the water finally started turning cold, he got out of the shower and went to the sink. He grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and spent a good twenty minutes brushing his teeth. No matter how long he brushed, he didn't think it made any difference at all. Finally, he rinsed the brush and set it down. As he looked up, he glanced in the mirror and winced. He hardly recognized the body as belonging to him, it was so badly beaten.

Cuts marred his upper body and several bruises had already formed deep purple blotches on his light skin. For some reason unknown to him, his face remained untouched, as if they had purposefully avoided it. Wincing again, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off before heading into the bedroom. There, he grabbed a pair of boxers and sweats and put them on. Then he curled up in bed and waited for the sleep that never came.

_***End Flashback***_

Feeling like he was as clean as he was going to get, he turned off the shower and stepped out. Grabbing a towel, Tim started toweling himself off when he saw his reflection in the mirror and groaned. Black and blue and purple blotches had almost completely taken over his skin. Larger, blacker blotches covered his ribs and he winced in pain as he felt the tender skin. Last night, the pain in his ribs had him thinking that some of them might have been broken. Now, seeing the bruises and feeling them throb painfully, it seemed he was right.

Refusing to go to the hospital for fear of the doctors finding out what had happened, he finished drying off and headed into his room to get ready for work. When he finished dressing, he went into is kitchen, grabbed a banana, his work bad, and his keys and headed out the door, making sure to lock on his way out.

When Tm entered the parking lot, he froze, as panic surged through his body. His car was gone. Thinking rapidly, he remembered that he had taken his car to the shop yesterday and had planned on taking the bus to work. However, the panic intensified as he realized that that meant he had to walk down the street to the bus stop, which was just in front of a particular alley he would rather not be anywhere near.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his visibly shaking body as he headed down the street to the bus stop. As he stood next to the sign, waiting for the bus, he couldn't help constantly looking over his shoulder at the innocent looking alleyway. He was so nervous, he didn't even notice he had completely squished his banana until it oozed out of the sides of the peel and down his hand. He tossed the remains into the trash can next to the pole and wiped his hand on a napkin from his jacket pocket. As he threw the napkin in the trash, he glanced at the alley again. It remained empty the entire time he waited but by the time the bus pulled up and he had grabbed a seat near the back, he was practically hyperventilating.

When the bus finally reached his stop, he jumped from the bus and forced himself to relax as he walked up to the gate in front of his work building and approached the security guard.

"Good morning, Special Agent McGee." The man said with a smile.

"Good morning, Nathan." Tim greeted back. He pulled out his I.D. and handed it to Nathan, who scanned it and handed it back.

"Have a good day, sir." Nathan said as Tim entered through the gate. As soon as the gate closed behind him, Tim relaxed a great deal. On this side of the gate, he was safe.

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"McGee, you're late." A male voice called to Tim as he walked through the elevator doors and into the office. The voice belonged to a man who looked to be in his late thirties to early forties, sitting with his feet on the desk and arms behind his head. His eyes narrowed as he studied Tim. "And you look terrible."

"What?" Alarmed, Tim looked down at himself, thinking that he had seen a bruise or something. Nothing seemed to be showing; he looked back at the man.

"You look like you haven't had a wink of sleep all night." He clarified.

Tim inwardly sighed in relief at the clarification and then glared at him. "What do you mean I'm late?" He glanced at his watch as he walked to his desk and set his bag down. "I still have about eight minutes left."

Tony grinned. "Yeah but usually you're the first one here, then Ziva, then me, and then Gibbs. Ziva and I got here before you, so technically you're late."

Tim looked at the desk across from Tony's, which was empty, and then glanced at Tony in puzzlement. "Where is Ziva?"

"Bathroom." Said Tony with a shrug.

Tim nodded and turned on his computer. As it booted up, he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out some paperwork he had been neglecting, feeling that now was as good a time as any to get it done. Plus, he could use something to distract his mind from other thoughts.

As he multitasked in opening up programs on his computer and working on the papers, a woman walked passed his desk and nodded to him. "McGee is here." She said. She had dark hair pulled back in a long ponytail and dangerously dark eyes. Tim still felt a bit of fear around her; she definitely looked like a Mossad assassin.

"Hi, Ziva." Tim said, nodding to her. She nodded back as she sat down, and then narrowed her eyes at him, studying him. Tim shifted uncomfortably, not liking the look she was giving him. Finally he couldn't take the uncomfortable feeling anymore. "Ziva?"

"Are you ill?" she asked.

His eyes widened in surprise. "No, why?" he asked.

She continued to stare at him. "Are you hurt?"

Tim felt his heart racing as he shook his head. _Could she know?_ "No, I'm fine. Is something wrong?"

Suddenly she shook her head and blinked, as though snapping out of a trance. "No, nothing. It's nothing." She turned her attention to her computer but Tim could tell she wasn't going to let it go. He glanced at Tony, and then glanced away when he noticed Tony studying him too.

Just then, their boss, Special Agent Gibbs, walked through the elevator doors with his usual cup of coffee and headed to his desk. As he sat down and glanced around at his team, his gaze lingered on Tim. "You alright?" he asked.

As Tim was about to answer, the phone on his desk rang. Feeling relieved, he merely nodded to Gibbs as he answered the phone.

"So, Boss." Tony said, sitting up and placing his feet on the ground. "Any cases today?"

Gibbs finally tore his eyes from Tim and looked at Tony. "Not yet, but that's bound to change, so don't get comfortable."

Tony started leaning back in his chair but stopped at Gibbs's words. "Right, Boss." The three of them glanced at Tim, who seemed to be staring quite intently at his computer screen as he listened to the person on the other end of the call. "What's up with him?"

"If he knew, Tony, he wouldn't have asked McGee if something was wrong." Ziva said.

"You never know." Tony countered. "He could just want to see if McGee will say it or if he needs to beat it out of him."

"No, Dinozzo, I don't know what's wrong with him." Gibbs said, facing Tony. "If something is wrong, he can tell us on his own. Last I checked, I wasn't his mother."

"Uh, well, uh, I wasn't trying to say you were… um… I just meant…" Tony stuttered.

Ziva chuckled at Tony and glanced at Tim when he hung up the phone. Her chuckle died instantly when she saw his face. His expression looked haunted, as if whoever had called him had told him a family member had died. "McGee, are you alright?"

Tim didn't answer. He just stared at his computer screen, not really seeing it.

"McGee?" Gibbs asked, worry edging into his voice. When he still didn't answer, Gibbs raised his voice. "McGee!"

Tim jumped and slowly turned his head in Gibbs's direction, the haunted expression still in his eyes. His breathing had quickened and his heart thudded painfully in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, then quickly turned and threw up in the trash can next to his desk. He couldn't believe it. They had called him. The men from the alley had called him, threatened him, reminding him not to say anything about the other day. How did they know where he was? How did they get his number? Are they spying on him? Are they watching everything he does?

Gibbs, Ziva and Tony jumped up and rushed to Tim as he struggled for air. "McGee." Gibbs said, reaching him first. He pulled him from his chair and down on his knees, bringing him closer to the trash.

"Is he alright?" Ziva asked.

Tim struggled for breath through his heaving and panic. He slowly took deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Are they watching him right now? Did they know that he was being questioned by his teammates and his boss? He took a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder. They weren't anywhere behind him. Could they be outside? He looked out the large windowed wall. They were too high up for anyone to be looking in without a plane or something. Did they bug him? He started to check but stopped when he realized that if they did bug him and he found anything in front of the others, he would have to tell them how he got it and who put it on him. That would lead to the explanation of yesterday. No, he won't do it, he won't tell anybody anything. He can't.

"Breath, McGee." Gibbs said. "What happened? Who was on the phone?"

Tim used his struggling for air to think of what to say. He could tell them he was feeling sick. It wouldn't be a total lie, since he did feel sick now. Then he can go to the bathroom and find anything they could have used as a bug. But what about the phone call? How was he going to explain that? Maybe he could say that one of his college friends had died? No, Gibbs would know he was lying. Maybe he could kind of tell them the truth. Maybe he could say that someone was threatening cops and had just threatened him? But then they would want to know where he got his information. Well, maybe he can just say it was nothing. That his throwing up had nothing to do with the phone call. Yeah, that might work. It was lame, but he had to say something.

"McGee, what's going on?" Tony asked.

Tim gasped for more air before speaking. "I'm - _gasp_ – okay. I think I'm coming – _gasp_ – down with something. I just got – _gasp_ – really sick all of a sudden." Tim lied.

"What was with that phone call?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah, McGee, you looked like you just got a call from you dead grandmother or something." Tony said.

Tim shook his head. "It was nothing. It was just a call about some financial thing, I wasn't really paying attention. I've been feeling sick lately and it went away this morning. It came back doubled just now. I just need to get to a bathroom real quick." He couldn't believe how easily the lies came. He wasn't proud of it but he couldn't tell them the truth. Instead he stood up and headed in the direction of the bathrooms.

"Tim." Gibbs said, grabbing his arm and stopping him.

"I'm okay." Tim said, surprised that Gibbs had called him by his first name. He must be really worried about him if he used his first name. "Really." Then he turned and headed to the bathroom. When he got there, he rinsed out his mouth and then went into one of the stalls. Quickly, he checked his clothes over but couldn't find anything that looked like it could be a bug. Sighing, he exited the stall to find Tony leaning against the bathroom door.

"What's up, Probie?" Tony asked.

**A/N: well there you go. I'm trying to post this story as quickly as I can while it is still fresh in my mind. Please read and review and let me know how I did. Thanks.**

**By the way, this is probably one of the longest chapters I have ever written. I think I have a headache now. Must lie down now.**


	3. Confrontation

**A/N: okay well here is chapter three. I'm on a roll. This chapter is almost as long as the last one. I just can't stop typing but I guess that's good cuz that means I'm still into this story and it hasn't died in my head yet. Woot. Well, here's chapter three. Hope you like reading it as much as I did writing it.**

**Chapter Three: Confrontation**

"Tony." Tim choked out. A lump had formed in his throat, making it hard to swallow. "What are you doing in here?"

"I think the bigger question, Probie, is what are **you** doing?" Tony looked towards the stall Tim had come out of and then looked back at him. "Last I checked, people don't take their clothes off when they're throwing up in the toilet. Nor do they mumble to themselves about bugs. So what were you doing?"

Tim tried to swallow the lump in his throat that was threatening to suffocate him. "I – I thought a bug had landed on me. I was _– um – _trying to find it." He stuttered.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Come on, McGee, you know you suck at lying. Tell me what's going on."

Tim stared at him, completely at a loss. What should he do? He couldn't find anything to indicate he had been bugged but that didn't mean he wasn't, right? What if he told Tony the truth and _**they**_ found out? They'd do it again. He didn't think he could stand it if they did it again. They'd kill him for sure.

But if he didn't say something, anything, if he tried to lie again, he had no doubt in his mind that his teammates would try to find out on their own. Tony was right, he sucked at lying. But he couldn't tell them. He just couldn't. What should he do?

Suddenly his legs wouldn't hold him anymore. Slowly he sank to the bathroom floor, pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his face with his trembling hands. His breathing became rapid and his entire body trembled.

Tony, alarmed, approached him and knelt beside him. "What's going on, Tim?"

Tim shook his head, unable to look at him. "I can't." he mumbled through his hands.

"What?" Tony asked, not able to understand his muffled voice.

Tim took his hands from his face but still refused to look at him. "I can't." he repeated. "I can't."

"Can't what?" Tony asked.

"I can't tell. I can't tell you. I can't tell Gibbs. I can't tell anyone." Tim pressed his palms against his eyes and shook his head. "I can't."

Then Tony asked, "Did that call have something to do with you suddenly feeling sick?" Tim didn't answer. "McGee, look at me." Tim didn't move. Then, with more authority in his voice, he said, "Agent McGee, as Senior Field Agent, I order you to look at me and answer my question." Tim removed his hands from his eyes and looked up at him. "Did that call have something to do with you suddenly feeling sick?"

Tim hesitated, and then slowly nodded. "Yes." He whispered. He didn't trust his trembling voice to go any louder.

Quickly, Tony thought about Tim coming to work looking like he hadn't gotten any sleep last night. Then he asked, "And does either of these things have to do with you coming to work later than usual and your lack of sleep?"

Tim hesitated again before nodding. "Yes."

"But for some reason, you can't tell anyone." Tony continued.

This time without hesitation, Tim shook his head. "No." he said firmly.

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "Is it because you were **told** not to tell, or is it because you don't **want** to tell?"

Tim's eyes widened with surprise. He was about to answer but paused, thinking. _Was that part of it? He had been threatened more than once not to say anything. They had threatened him, beaten him and… he couldn't think it, couldn't think that word. But they had done it. They had completely humiliated him, practically killed him. Was that the only reason he didn't say anything? No, that wasn't all. It wasn't just that he couldn't tell, he wouldn't tell. He didn't want them to know. He didn't want to see the looks on their faces if he told them. Not the pity, or the disgust, none of it. He couldn't. He wouldn't._ Tim looked up at Tony. "Both." He said.

Tony nodded. "Okay, so you don't want to tell. But you were also told not to. By who?"

Tim shook his head. "I can't."

"Okay, let's try something else." Tony said quickly. "Why can't you tell? Not why **won't** you, I mean why **can't** you?"

Tim thought about what to say. Should he tell him the truth or should he edit? Finally he spoke. "They told me not to."

"Who?" Tony asked. "Who told you? What did they say?"

Tim looked down at his hands, resting on his knees, and noticed that they had stopped shaking. Odd, now that he thought about it, he had calmed down a lot. His body wasn't shaking anymore and his breathing had gotten easier. Talking about it had helped him a great deal, more than he thought it would. Still, he shook his head, staring at his hands. "I can't tell you that."

"You can't at least tell me what they said?" Tony asked. "What did they tell you?"

"That they would hurt whoever I told." Tim said. The guy's voice echoed its threat in his head, as well as the warning on the phone. "That they would do it again, and do it to whomever I told as well. I can't let the happen."

"Do what again? What would they do?" Tony asked. He had gotten Tim to start telling him what was going on. Hopefully he could get something from him that they could use to find out the rest of it.

"They would do it again. What they did to me yesterday. They'd do it again. And I don't think I could take anymore." Tim shook his head, not really paying attention to what he was saying. "They said they would. He said they would do it again if I told anyone. And they would do it to whoever I told, too. I can't let that happen. I don't want it to happen again."

"What happened?" Tony asked. This sounded important. "What did they do to you, Tim?" he asked, using his first name.

Tim started to reply. "He…" _He was going to do it. He was going to say it. He was going to tell him what happened. He was going to tell Tony everything. But wait, was he supposed to? No, something told him he shouldn't. Why? He was told not to, right? Yeah, someone told him not to say anything. But why? Who told him not to say anything?_

Tim started breathing hard, perspiration breaking out on his forehead. His body trembled and his head felt light. He started to feel really dizzy and he couldn't concentrate on what he was doing. _What __**was**__ he doing? He was sitting on the floor. The floor of what?_ He looked around him, the room starting to spin. _He was in a bathroom. What was he doing in a bathroom? On the floor, no less. Eww. The bathroom floor wasn't a very sanitary place to sit._ His gaze landed on Tony. _Tony? What was he doing here? Wait, wasn't he just talking to him? What was he talking about? He couldn't remember. _The room started to tilt uncomfortably and he felt like he was going to fall. _But he couldn't fall. He was already sitting down._

"McGee?" Tony asked, worry creeping into his voice. Something was wrong. Tim didn't look so good. If anything, he looked like he was going to be sick again. Carefully he placed his hand on Tim's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

Tim looked at Tony, not really seeing him. He looked bleary, like he was looking at him through the wrong end of a telescope. _Why did he look like that? Wait, was he trying to say something? His mouth was moving but Tim couldn't hear anything. Was something wrong with him? No, it wasn't that something was wrong with Tony; it was as if something was wrong with __**him**__. But what was wrong with him? He felt fine. Okay, so he was a bit dizzy, well actually he was really dizzy, not to mention his stomach felt like it was trying to crawl up his throat. Other than that, he felt fine._

Slowly, he turned his head behind him and noticed the toilet. _Eww, I'm sitting near a toilet. That's definitely unsanitary. Why was he sitting near a toilet? Wait, he had been using the toilet for something a while ago. But he couldn't remember what. Just that it wasn't the way you're supposed to use it. What did he use it for?_ Suddenly, the feeling of his stomach crawling up his throat increased and he shot for the toilet just in time.

"McGee!" Tony shouted, leaping up and following him into the stall. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and handed it to Tim, who took it with a shaky hand. Tony placed his hand on Tim's forehead. It felt a bit warm. '_Warm is bad, right?'_ Tony thought.

As Tim tried to catch his breath, his head cleared enough to realize what had just happened. _He almost told Tony what had happened yesterday. What was he thinking?_ Tim felt himself panicking. _What did he just do? They would find out for sure. They would find out he had told Tony. He didn't tell him what had happened to him but he had told him enough information to be considered useful. Oh, hell, he was screwed. They were going to come for him, he knew it. They were going to come for him and Tony, cuz now Tony knew too. He knew enough to be a threat to them. They were both dead._

Tim gasped and turned his head to look at Tony. "They know. They know I told you. They're going to come for us both." He started growing hysterical. "They're going to come for us; they're going to get us. They're going to kill us. They're going to do it again. No, no they can't, they can't."

"McGee, relax." Tony told him, placing his hand on his shoulder. "You're going to be okay. No one's coming. You're fine."

Tim shook his head. "No, they're going to get me. They're going to do it again, I don't want them to do it again, they can't they can't I won't I won't do it I won't they can't they can't…"

Tony grabbed another wad of toilet paper and placed it over Tim's mouth as he started hyperventilating. "Breathe, McGee. Relax. Calm down, it's okay. We can tell Gibbs what's going on and…"

Tim pushed the toilet paper from his mouth and shook his head. "No!" he shouted. "I can't tell anyone, I'm not supposed to tell, I wasn't supposed to tell you, I – "

Tony placed the wad over his mouth again. "McGee, stop talking. Just breathe. And we have to tell him. He can help. If we tell him, he can find some way to protect you from them; maybe he can keep you here or something."

Tim slowly got his breathing under control. When he was calm enough, he pushed the wad from his face. Tony let him push his hand away. "I'm not going to do that. I can't just hide. They'll think they've won. I don't want to stay here. I need to go home. If they don't know yet, they'll find out if I don't go home. They'll get suspicious and then they'll know."

Tony knew he was right. They, whoever **they** were, would find out McGee had told someone. They had to pretend everything was normal. That no one knew. But they couldn't just leave McGee alone. **They** would get to him for sure. So what should they do? "Okay, here's what we'll do. We'll tell Gibbs and Ziva just what you told me, no, let me finish." Tony held up a hand as Tim was about to protest. "We tell them that someone is following you and has been threatening you not to say anything to anyone. Wait." He narrowed his eyes in puzzlement. "That phone call. That was them, right? What did they say?"

Tim hesitated. He didn't really want to tell him what they had said but maybe he didn't have to tell him everything. Not all of the details anyway. Taking a deep breath, he said, "They reminded me of what they had done to me yesterday. They told me that they were warning me, reminding me of what would happen if I told. They said they were watching me, watching my every move. And that if I told anyone, and they found out, they would do a repeat of yesterday to me and whoever I told. And they would make me watch whoever they did it to."

"And by 'whoever you told', you meaning me." Tony said.

Tim nodded. "I told you enough to make you a threat to them, so yeah. And they'll make me watch before they do it to me. I don't want a repeat. It was bad enough the first time. So they told me to remember that the next time my teammates ask me what's wrong."

"And what exactly did they do? I think I'm entitled to know seeing as how I'm now a target." Tony said.

Tim shook his head. "I can't tell you. I won't. I can't. Just know that it's really bad and you probably, no, you definitely won't be the same after."

Tony sighed. It didn't look like he was going to get that bit of information from him. Fine. "Well, how did they know you were talking to us? Are they bugging you?"

Tim shrugged. "I don't know. I tried to check but I couldn't find anything. But that doesn't mean it's not on me somewhere."

Tony thought about that for a moment, then asked, "Maybe it's not on your clothes. Maybe they planted it on you somewhere, like in your hair or something. Did they put anything on you, maybe in your skin or something?"

Tim winced. That was way too close to the truth for comfort. "I don't know. I wasn't paying attention; I was too busy trying to block the entire scene from my head. And then I had gone unconscious after they had finished."

Tony's eyes widened. "So, they could have planted something on you when you were unconscious." Then as an afterthought, he said, "But we can't do tests or anything to check. If we do, we might let them know that we know and then all hell will break loose. Damn."

"Sorry." Tim said as he wiped his mouth with the toilet paper in his hand and pushed himself away from the toilet and flushed it. His mouth tasted disgusting.

Tony looked at him. "Sorry for what?"

Tim shrugged. "For getting you involved. I shouldn't have said anything. Sorry."

Tony rolled his eyes and softly smacked the back of his head. "None of that, Probie. I forced you to tell me, so don't worry about it." Then he stood up and brushed off his pants before holding a hand out to Tim. "Come on; let's go tell Gibbs and Ziva what's going on and figure out what to do."

Tim grabbed Tony's hand and let him help pull him to his feet. Then he went over to the sink and washed his hands. "You should wash your hands too. I touched the rim of the toilet and then touched your hand."

Tony looked at his hand and grimaced. "Eww, that's nasty." Tony pushed Tim away from the sink before he could turn off the water and washed his own hands. Afterward, he grabbed a paper towel and dried his hands before throwing it in the trash. Before he could get to the bathroom door, Tim grabbed his arm. He turned and looked at him, questioning.

"Don't tell Abby." Tim said. "If she finds out, she'll panic. I don't want to put her in danger any more than I do you guys. And I don't want any more people to know than need be."

Tony nodded. "Right. No problem."

**A/N: Well here it is all. My fingers are a bit cramped but other than that I'm good. I couldn't stop typing. But here it is. Please read and review and tell me how it goes and if I should keep writing. Thanks.**


	4. The Plan

**A/N: Hey everyone. First I just want it to say that everyone who was expecting me to update yesterday, I apologize. I was planning on it but right now my boyfriend is using my laptop so I am currently using the laptop of a friend of mine. Unfortunately she always gets mad when I asked if I can update my story even though she was the one who offered to let me use it. but I updated today, so that's something right?**

**Secondly, I am adding to the disclaimer that I do not own iTunes. A lot of you obviously know that but there are a few douches that would make anything a problem. So just letting you know, I DO NOT OWN ITUNES OR ANYTHING THAT IS OBVIOUSLY NOT OWNED BY ME. DUH.**

**Now on with the story!**

**Chapter Four: The Plan**

Tim and Tony entered the main office to find Gibbs alone at his desk. "Where's Ziva?" Tony asked as he and Tim approached his desk.

Gibbs glanced up from the paper he was looking over. His gaze shifted over to Tim, who he noticed was looking sickly pale and nervous, and then looked back at Tony. "Abby wanted to speak with her real quick." He said with a shrug. He glanced back at Tim to see him look over his shoulder a few times before looking out the window. "You alright, McGee?"

Tim jumped and turned back to Gibbs. "Fine." He said quickly, still looking over his shoulder.

Tony decided now was the best time to start. "So, Boss." Tony said loudly. At the same time he placed a finger over his lips, signaling him to be quite. Then he grabbed a sheet of printer paper and a pen. "Any cases yet?" Then he wrote something on the paper and showed it to Gibbs. '_We need to talk but not here. Privately.'_ Then he glanced pointedly at Tim, who looked incredibly uncomfortable and jumpy, and back again.

Gibbs stared at Tony, then at Tim, before saying, "No, Dinozzo, for the second time today, we do not have a case yet. When one comes up, I'll let you know." At the same time, he grabbed the paper and pen from Tony and wrote, '_We'll go to the interrogation room.'_

Tony read the paper and then showed it to Tim, who thought it over and then shrugged and nodded. "Right, Boss. Sorry I asked." Tony said.

"McGee." Gibbs said, standing up.

Tim jumped again. "Yes?" he gasped, sounding breathless.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and Tony gave him a look that said to relax. "Something is wrong with the computer in the interrogation room. Go fix it." Gibbs said.

Startled by the sudden command, Tim looked at Tony, who shrugged, and then shrugged himself. "Um, okay."

As he headed towards the interrogation room, Tony suddenly got an idea. "Hey, McGee. Did you bring your laptop with you today?"

Tim stared at him. "Yes. He said.

"Great, why don't you bring it with you and we can listen to some music while you fix the computer and I get in the way like always." Tim looked confused until Tony winked at him. _This is part of the plan._

"Oh, alright." Tim said. He grabbed his laptop from his bag and followed Gibbs and Tony to the interrogation room. When they got there, Tim opened his laptop and opened up iTunes.

"Hey, I didn't know you had iTunes on here." Tony said, looking over his shoulder. "Do you have an iPod?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, but I left it at home today. I've had it for a while now." Tim turned on the music and adjusted the volume to be loud enough for unwanted listeners to hear them but quiet enough for them to hear each other. "Okay." He sighed, turning in the chair and facing Gibbs.

Quickly, he and Tony told Gibbs about a group of 'thugs' stalking and threatening Tim and telling him that if he didn't keep his mouth shut about whatever they had done to him that they would do a repeat and do it to whoever he told as well and that they would make him watch. They also told Gibbs that it was them who had called earlier and had freaked Tim out and how Tony had followed Tim into the bathroom and how they think Tim had been bugged but they couldn't find anything on his clothes. Then Tony described how petrified Tim had been when he realized that he had told Tony more information than he was supposed to and that he kept saying he didn't want them to repeat whatever they had done to him.

"And what exactly did they do to you?" Gibbs asked him.

At this, Tom got really quiet and lowered his eyes to the ground. He knew that if he continued to look at Gibbs, he wouldn't be able to keep from telling him everything.

"He wouldn't say." Tony jumped in. "No matter how many times I asked, he wouldn't say. He just kept repeating that he couldn't say it, that he's not supposed to tell cuz they'd kill him."

Gibbs looked at Tim, who refused to meet their gazes. "McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Please, boss." Tim said, so softly that they could hardly hear him over the music. "I can't tell anymore than I already have."

Gibbs continued to star at him, making him squirm uncomfortably. Then he turned back to Tony. "Is that everything?"

Tony nodded. "Pretty much, yeah." Then as an afterthought, he added, "Oh and McGee's sick. Got a bit of a fever."

Tim's head shot up and turned to Tony. "I do not." He said.

"You do, too. I checked your forehead when you started kissing porcelain again. You were warm. I'm not a doctor but I do know that feeling warm isn't a good thing." He looked at Gibbs and shrugged. "You can check him yourself if you'd like."

Tim looked at Gibbs, who stared at him through narrowed eye before nodding to Tony. "No, I believe you."

"But I'm not sick." Tim said.

Gibbs shot Tim a look and he fell silent. "We'll worry about that later." He said. "Right now we need to work on finding these guys and keeping you alive. You're right, you can't stay here. You need to act as normal as possible so they don't get suspicious. Instead, Tony, you and Ziva are to keep an eye on him until these guys are behind bars."

Tony saluted Gibbs. "Aye, aye, boss." Then he turned to Tim and grinned. "Congratulations, Probie. You just won yourself a couple of bodyguards."

Tim forced out a small smile at Tony's attempt to cheer him up. Maybe it would be okay after all. If they all watched what they said around him, in case he was bugged somehow, then maybe they actually stood a chance.

Tony left the room and returned moments later with Ziva, who looked confused when she realized there wasn't anyone being questioned. After taking several minutes to fill her in on the details and what was really going on, her eyes widened and she turned to Tim. "Do not worry, McGee. We will help you through this and make sure you are safe until these men are taken down. I will see to it personally if I have to."

Tim's eyes widened at the seriousness of her words and voice. Then he looked down at his shoes, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. He no longer felt like NCIS's Special Agent Timothy McGee. Now he felt like Tim McGee, weak and useless victim who ran to the authorities with his problems. Pathetic. "Thanks." He told his shoes.

"Ziva, I want you to go with him first." Gibbs ordered. "Follow him home and make sure he gets there but don't let yourself be seen."

"Wait." Tim said suddenly.

Everyone turned to look at him. "Don't worry, Probie, you can count on us." Tony said.

"I know but that's not what I meant. I just remembered that I don't have my car with me. I took it to the shop yesterday morning and I'm supposed to pick it up later today." He glanced at his watch. "Around five since the shop is closing as six today."

Gibbs nodded. "Right, then Ziva, at five o'clock, you take Tim to get his car and then follow him home. Use the excuse that he had just gotten his car out of the shop and you were following him to make sure it doesn't break down again."

"Um, well, it didn't really break down, it just needed a tune up but I'm too busy to do it myself." He stopped at the look from Gibbs. "But that works, too." He said quickly.

Then Gibbs turned to Tony. "Tony, later tonight, you pick the time, go to his apartment and find a way to stay there for a while. But don't stay around all day and maybe stay for a day or two, possible three."

"Okay, but what should my reason be?" Tony asked.

Gibbs shrugged. "I don't know, maybe you can say that you're being followed by one of your angry ex-girlfriends and you need somewhere to lie low for a while."

"Aw, boss." Tony said, sounding hurt. Ziva laughed and Tim turned his head so Tony wouldn't see his smile. How well they knew him. "Do you really think I have that many ex-girlfriends who are mad at me? I admit I have a few ex's but they aren't all mad at me. Maybe one or two."

"Right, Tony." Gibbs said, not really caring.

After Gibbs had given everyone their orders, Tim turned off the music and closed his laptop. "All finished, boss. It took longer to fix than I thought it would, but fixed it is." He said, using their earlier cover for the use of the interrogation room and music.

"Good, McGee." Gibbs played along. "Now get back to work. Tony, you too."

As the others exited the room and Tim stood up to follow, he nearly dropped his laptop as a sudden pain erupted from his broken ribs. He almost forgot they were broken, having been so worked up over that phone call. Carefully and slowly, he set the laptop down and put his hands on his knees, taking slow and steady breaths. Another sharp pain shot across his ribs and he clutched at his chest, as if he could stop the pain that way. Wincing, he sat down on the ground and brought his knees up to his chest and placed his head between them, taking deep, shallow and shaky breaths.

A few seconds later, Tony reentered the room, wondering why Tim hadn't followed them out. He ran over to Tim when he saw him sitting rigged on the ground, gasping for air. "Hey, what happened?" he asked.

Tim shook his head. "Nothing." He gasped. "I just got a sharp –_gasp_- pain in my chest. It –_gasp- _hurts when I breathe and it's making me feel –_gasp-_ sicker." He slowly took another slow breath.

Tony studied him for a moment. Then he nodded and said, "Kay, then just sit here until it passes. Don't force it."

After a few more minutes, Tim was able to breathe normally again as the pain subsided. "I think I'm okay now." He said. His voice was shaky but he wasn't hurting anymore.

Tony helped him up and led him out of the interrogation room, grabbing the laptop on their way out. Tim stopped and took another breath before nodding to Tony. "I think I walk on my own now. Thanks."

"No problem." Tony said, though he sounded unsure.

The two of them entered the main office and took their seats at their desks. Then Tim turned to Ziva and deliberately asked loudly, "Hey, Ziva. My car is in the shop right now but I need to go pick it up at five. Do you mind giving me a ride?"

Immediately, Ziva understood and nodded. "Of course."

"Thanks." Tim said. He started to open his laptop when his desk phone rang for the second time that morning. The room turned eerily quiet as the three of them turned to Tim. He stared at the phone ringing on his desk with a look of horror. He could feel the panic threatening to take him.

"McGee." Ziva hissed. Tim looked up at her with terror filled eyes. "Answer your phone."

Slowly Tim turned back and picked up the receiver, treating it like a hand grenade without its pin. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Then he took a shaky breath and tried again. "Hello, Agent McGee speaking."

"McGee, it's Abby. Do you have a minute?" the voice asked.

Tim let out a sigh in relief. "Oh, Abby." The others relaxed at the familiar name and realized just how tense they had gotten. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Well, I'm working on something down here but I think I need your help real quick. Do you mind helping me?" she asked.

Tim nodded and then realizing she couldn't see him, said out loud, "Yeah, sure, I'll be right down." Then he hung up and headed to the elevator, where he pushed the button he needed to get to the forensics lab.

Abby was their forensic scientist, though she looked nothing like one. If anything, she looked more like a gothic girl who had decided to play scientist dress up. She had black shoulder length hair, usually held in two short pigtails at her neck, and wore mostly black, including black lipstick, eyeliner and mascara. She also had a tattoo on her neck shaped like a large spider web and those spiked leather wrist bands around her wrists. And she always had a smile on her face, making her look like a playful little girl who liked the color black.

Tim entered the lab and looked around at all of the machines, trying to locate Abby. "Abby!" he called. He had to half shout as his voice was drowned out by the heavy music playing.

Suddenly Abby sprang out from behind a large computer screen, ran towards him and threw her arms around his neck. "McGee!" she shouted as she hugged him.

"Hey, Abby." Tim laughed. Abby could always make anyone feel better, no matter how bad they felt. After she had released him, he shouted, "So what did you need help with?"

Abby turned and walked to a tall filing cabinet, where she turned off the music and threw the room into a sudden silence. Then she turned back to him and smiled. "I need you to help me with this." She said, taking his hand and pulling him to the large computer screen. "It's some kind of code thing I've been working on, just for fun, but I can't get it. I really want to solve it cuz it's being so difficult but right now my brain is to tired and spinney to think straight anymore. That's why I asked you, a fresh brain, to help me."

Tim looked at the screen, which was filled with letters and numbers in a jumbled mess. Computers were his specialty. He was his team's computer specialist and the person everyone went to for technical problems. He typed on the keyboard for a few moments, becoming engrossed in the unsolved code, but not enough to keep from noticing Abby pacing impatiently behind him.

"Anything?" she asked after two minutes.

Tim laughed silently to himself. "No, not yet, but I just started, so give me a minute."

Abby sighed and continued pacing. "What's taking so long, I thought you were as good an expert as me?"

"Well, it doesn't really help when there's a caffeine addicted goth girl pacing behind me." He teased.

Abby continued pacing until she realized what he had said. Then she turned and slapped his arm. "Not funny. I really want to crack this code."

"Done." He said as she started pacing again.

Quickly she whirled around and stood behind him, leaning against his back to see the screen. "How did you do it so quickly? McGee, you're the best." She hugged him again.

"It actually wasn't that hard, once you realized what you were trying to do." He said.

She kept her arms around him from the hug but she glared down at him. "Are you trying to say something, McGee?"

Startled, he turned his head to the side so he could see her face better. "No, I was just saying that it wasn't that hard."

Abby glared at him again and poked the side of his stomach. "You're trying to say I'm losing my touch, aren't you?"

Tim shifted away from her finger, resisting the urge to wince and laugh at the same time. When she poked his stomach, she also poked one of the many bruises he had. "Abby, don't. That hurts."

Abby smiled playfully. "If it hurts, why are you smiling?" she asked, poking the side of his stomach again.

This time Tim winced and laughed, pushing her hand away. "Ow, stop."

"Not until you apologize." Abby said, this time using all of her fingers to poke him.

"For what, I didn't do anything." Tim laughed. He tried to grab her hand but then she used her other hand to poke the other side.

"Apologize for insulting me." She ordered.

Tim tried to speak but Abby didn't give him the chance. Instead, she squeezed his sides, making him laugh even harder and try to squirm away. "Ow, Abby, stop."

"Say you're sorry." She taunted in a singsong voice.

"Abby, seriously." Tim laughed. As Abby continued to tickle him, Tim's shirt started to loosen itself from his pants, rising up to show his pale skin.

As Abby glanced down at his skin, she stopped. "McGee!" she shouted, looking at the bruise in shock.

Tim glanced down to see what she was staring at and then grabbed the bottom of his shirt and hastily tucked it back into his pants. "Abby." He said, not really sure what to say. _What should he do? He needed to say something, or do something, to explain the bruise. He couldn't tell her the truth._

"McGee?" she asked. She took a hesitant step towards him.

Tim backed up until his back was against the table with the computer. "Abby, I can explain but not now. I-"

Just then Tony entered the lab. "McGee, we need to go, we've got… a… case…" he stopped, noticing the shocked expression on Abby's face and the terrified look on Tim's.

Tim used the distraction to run past Abby and out of the lab, pulling Tony with him and calling behind him, "I'm sorry, Abby. I'll explain it one day, I promise."

"McGee, wait!" Abby called.

**A/N: okay well here you guys go. Sorry for the slow update. Hope you guys liked this. And don't forget to R&R. thanks.**


	5. The Case

**A/N: Hey everyone. Just want to let you know that the next chapter is going to be even longer than these last ones have been. It will consist of two "work days" for Tim. So because of that and the fact that things will start getting complicated, I will not be posting until Friday. I need time for the ideas to flow. What I can say is that the consequences of Tim's actions will happen in this chapter.**

**Also, I want to thank Marionet for letting me know how old Tony is. That is the kind of thing I need to help me make this a better story. I went back to chapter two and fixed it. and for Concrit for telling me about the rating. I thought I had put it at M but apparently not. But I fixed that.**

**As for the oddness of Tim not going to Ducky, I realize that after you said it, Marionet. Ducky is a doctor, duh. Lol well I put him in chapter five so hope that helps. And in regards to the consequences of walking around with broken ribs, that will catch up with him very soon.**

**One more thing. Sorry if the end of chapter four was a bit corny. One of my friends wanted me to put that tickling scene in there cuz I couldn't think of a way for Abby to accidently see the bruises. So, yeah. Thanx for reading! Look forward to Friday.**

**Chapter Five: The Case**

"So, what was that about?" Tony asked as they rode the elevator up to the main office.

"Nothing." Tim said. Then he mouthed, '_Tell you later.' _Tony nodded in understanding and didn't ask anything else.

"Got him, boss." Tony said as they left the elevator and walked up to Gibbs's desk.

"What's going on?" Tim asked.

Ziva pushed a button on the remote control she held and they all turned to the large screen above the space between Tony's and Tim's desk. Two photos flashed on screen. "Two officers were found dead; one a regular police officer and the other a naval lieutenant." She explained to both Tim and Gibbs; she and Tony already knew the details.

"The officer's name is Tanya Malloy, age 37, and was found late Saturday afternoon in an alley behind a grocery store." Tony jumped in. "Naval Lieutenant Heath Leme, age 42, was found earlier this morning in an alley near that new B'N'M Bakery place. We weren't given the case until they found Leme dead in the same manner as Malloy." There he paused.

"And?" Gibbs asked impatiently. "How did they die?"

"Both were brutally raped and beaten to death." Tony continued. "At first the police thought it was a rapist, mostly because Officer Malloy was a female but then they heard about Lieutenant Leme and it didn't fit with their stereotypical rapist. 'Why would he go for both a male and female?'"

"But when they got the autopsy report back," Ziva said, jumping back in. "They realized that there was more than one person involved; a group of people. However, they couldn't find any fingerprints, DNA, nothing. It seems that they were especially careful to leave no trace of themselves behind."

"They weren't exactly sure who should get this case since the victims were two different types of officers." Tony said. "But our director and the police came to an agreement that we will handle the case but keep them informed, since one of the victims is theirs. We just got the call and update right now, so shall we?" Tony turned and started heading to his desk to get the things he would need.

"Let's move." Gibbs said. He and Ziva started gathering things from their desks, preparing to leave.

Tony finished first and turned to head towards the elevator when he spotted Tim. He hadn't moved. He stood rooted to the spot, staring at the screen with a look of horror frozen on his face. "McGee?" he called. No answer. Tony looked at Gibbs and Ziva, who had both stopped and looked up when he had called to Tim. "McGee." He repeated, walking up to stand next to him.

Tim stared at the screen, not really seeing it. _'They're both dead.' _He thought. _'The officer found on Saturday; the lieutenant found today, Monday; and me, yesterday, Sunday. Saturday, Sunday, Monday; What if there's another one tomorrow? It looks like a pattern. And I've got an idea as to who is behind their deaths. But they're __**dead. **__Why are they dead but I'm not? It doesn't make sense!_

Tim shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and looked at the screen again, looking at the two photos. Suddenly a voice echoed in his head, an unpleasant voice that he hoped he would never have to hear again, whispering, "You're a cop. I hate cops." Technically, the naval officer and the police officer were both considered cops, as was he. '_Is this some kind of conspiracy?' _Tim thought. _'They're targeting officers, that much was certain. They didn't care what kind, an officer was an officer. But why? And why did they let me live? Obviously they had done it deliberately; they were too careful covering their tracks with evidence to be careless enough to leave me alive on accident. Why did they let me live?'_

As Tim was busy chasing his thoughts around in his head, Tony snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Probie!" he shouted. Tim jumped and turned to Tony. "What's the matter with you?" he asked.

Tim shook his head, this time pushing his thoughts to the back of his head for later. "Nothing, I'm alright." He lied. "I just feel a little tired, I didn't really get any sleep last night."

Tony narrowed his eyes suspiciously but decided to let it go. He could always ask him about it later, when they were sure no 'unwanted listeners' couldn't listen in. "Fine, then get your stuff so we can go."

Tim hastily went to his desk, grabbed the stuff he needed and followed everyone to the elevator, avoiding Gibbs and Ziva's looks of suspicion and concern that he knew were there.

When they reached the alley near the bakery, Tim glanced in the direction of his apartment building, then followed the sidewalk with his eyes until they landed at the opening of the alleyway he knew better than he would have liked. Even though he was with his team this time, he still couldn't help his heart from leaping to his throat as he gazed at the alley. _Were they there? Were they watching him at this very moment? _Panic started to overwhelm him and he had to struggle to keep from visibly shaking.

"Alright, let's see what we've got." Tony said from his left. Tim jumped and inwardly shook himself. "Let's go, McGee."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." He said. Carefully he walked under the yellow tape and into the crime scene. His heart started pounding painfully fast when he saw the body of the lieutenant. He looked too similar to how Tim had looked when he had seen himself in the mirror after that incident. The body was covered but he knew it would look as bad as the face, maybe even worse.

"Get in here, McGee." Gibbs commanded. He had knelt beside the body and was pulling back the sheet to allow Tony and Ziva to take pictures of the wounds.

Heart pounding faster and faster, Tim slowly walked over to Tony, who was currently standing at the victim's feet, keeping his eyes from the rest of the body. Normally he didn't have a problem with dead bodies. He'd seen so many while working at NCIS that it wasn't as unpleasant as it would have been to a newbie. But he didn't want to see it. He didn't want to see the body that would have been his, the body that could have been his, and almost was. And would be when they found out he told someone. He didn't want to see any of it; he wanted to leave, maybe go back to the office and do some more paper work. No, he had finished that this morning. Maybe he could sneak off and go home? His apartment was less than a few blocks from here. He could-, no, he couldn't. Walking from here to his apartment meant walking past the alley he didn't want to be anywhere near. Plus he knew he would be seen by Gibbs or someone before he even got to that alley. Besides, he didn't even want to go home. He just didn't want to be near this body.

"You alright, McGee?" Ziva asked. She angled her camera to take another shot. "You look ill again."

"I don't really feel very good right now." He said, this time telling the truth. He really did feel like he was going to be sick. He kept his gaze away from the body as he spoke again. "A dead body isn't really helping the queasiness of my stomach."

Ziva stopped snapping pictures and glanced at Tim. "Perhaps you should talk to Ducky when he gets here." She suggested. Then she said, "Unless the sickness is from something else?" The tone in her voice made him realize what she meant.

Tim looked over his shoulder at the mouth of the alley they were in and in the direction of the alley he didn't want to think about. No one seemed to be watching him, but he had the feeling he was being watched. He glanced at everyone at the scene. None of them looked out of place or even glanced at him. He turned back to Ziva and nodded very slightly, barely seen as a nod at all.

Ziva nodded and walked away, aiming her camera back at the body. Tim sighed and looked around on the ground. If he couldn't work while looking at the body, then he will just have to work without looking at it. Angling himself so his gaze didn't land on the body by accident, he started looking for evidence. It was as they report had said: there wasn't much evidence to look at. Every piece of cloth, anything that could be used as evidence, was gone. Some of their blood could have been spilt and mixed with the victim's but he doubted it.

"Would you mind stepping aside so we can get to the body, Timothy?" an English-accented voice asked him.

Tim turned to find an older man, somewhere in his fifties at least, walking toward him with a younger, thinner man behind him. "Ducky." He said. He stood up and backed away from the body without looking at it.

Ducky paused and glanced at him. "Are you feeling alright, Timothy? You look a bit ill."

Tim nodded. "I'm fine. Just tired is all."

"Ah, I see." Ducky said, continuing to the body.

"Jimmy." Tim greeted the other man.

"Hey, Tim." Jimmy greeted back. "Didn't sleep well?"

Tim shook his head. "No, not really. I slept for maybe ten to fifteen minutes the entire night."

Jimmy winced. "Ouch, that's not good. Nightmares or something?"

Tim shrugged. "I don't really know. I just couldn't get to sleep."

"I'd hate to interrupt but could you get over here and perform your duties, Mr. Palmer?" Ducky called.

Tim and Jimmy turned at the same time in the direction of Ducky's voice. Tim regretted it immediately. One glance at the body, bruised, cut up and bleeding, blood spread out around it, had him running behind a nearby dumpster and throwing up stomach acid, his earlier vomiting sessions leaving his stomach empty.

***Line separation***

Tim officially hated vomiting. He spent the rest of the investigation at the crime scene either vomiting or sitting in the car with a wet rag, courtesy of one of the bakery workers, pressed against the back of his neck. He felt terrible. His stomach muscles hurt from the effort of dry heaving, the convulsions made his broken ribs hurt like hell, his head had started throbbing, but most of all he felt humiliated. He was an NCIS agent for crying out loud, he wasn't supposed to get sick over a dead body. **He** knew why he had gotten sick, but anyone else would think of it as a rookie move, someone who couldn't cope with dead bodies. He spent enough time feeling incompetent with Tony constantly calling him "Probie" and he really didn't want everyone else thinking he was one too.

"You feeling any better?" Tony asked at one point.

Tim shook his head, unable to speak yet.

"Gibbs said when we finish, he'll have Ziva take you to go get your car. Then she'll drive with you back to the office and we'll spend the rest of the night going over everything for this case before we go home." Tony said. Then as an afterthought, he added, "By the way, I have a favor to ask you."

Tim looked up. "What?"

"Do you mind if I stayed at your place for a few days? One of my ex-girlfriends is stalking me right now and I need somewhere to lie low." Tony said, following their earlier plan.

Tim pretended to consider it; if he agreed too quickly, **they **would get suspicious. "Well, I don't know."

"Aw, come on, just for a few days." Tony asked. "I promise not to do anything to you in your sleep."

Tim pretended to glare at him before shrugging. "I guess. Sure, why not?" _Will this really work?_


	6. Tim's Confession

**A/N: well hope you guys like this chapter. Sorry it's so long. They way I had it planned in my head had all of this in one chapter. But at least you get to read this chapter at all. Haha. Well hope you like this. Again thanks to those who reviewed and those who helped me edit some things, like Tony's age. You know who you are.**

**Again, disclaimers are in chapter one and some other chapter but I will say it again.**

**I. DO. NOT. OWN. ANYTHING. THAT. IS. OBVIOUSLY. NOT. OWNED. BY. ME. DUH!**

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**Chapter Six: Tim's Confession**

The rest of the day had been spent with Ziva taking Tim to the auto shop to get his Porsche, and then they drove back to the office, where they all worked until almost nine o'clock.

As Tim was getting ready to call it a night, Tony stood up. "Hey, McGee, don't forget that I'm spending the next few days at your place until things cool down at mine."

Tim nodded. "Yeah, I know. I just need to speak to Ducky real quick."

"I need to go home real quick anyways and get some of my things." Tony said. "I'll meet you here in like five minutes. Wait for me."

"Why don't I just meet you at my apartment?" Tim asked.

"Because I am your senior field agent, Probie, that's why." Tony said as he entered the elevator.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Fine." He said. Then he went down to ask Ducky about the bodies. Unfortunately, Ducky wasn't able to tell him much except what he already knew. Tim would have stayed longer if Ducky hadn't started asking Tim if he was alright. He was getting tired of people asking that and him having to lie about it.

Then Tony had shown up and they had left the building and headed to Tim's apartment building. Tim had gotten the feeling he was being watched and he felt uneasy the entire time it took for him and Tony to carry Tony's things across the parking lot and up to Tim's apartment.

"Your place is a mess, McGee." Tony said as he entered the apartment.

"Sorry, I didn't know I was having guests." Tim said distractedly from the door. He turned to close it and glanced down the hall. No one had approached them the entire time but the uneasy feeling wouldn't go away. '_I'm starting to scare myself.'_ Tim thought as he closed the door and locked it.

Tony dropped his box on the ground. "So, where do I sleep? For the record, I am not sharing a bed with you."

"Well, you can sleep on the couch, if you'd like." He offered, choosing to ignore that last bit. "It's a pull-out, I just got it a few days ago when my old one finally broke the last time I sat on it."

Tony looked at him with a smirk. "And that's why you're supposed to exercise on a daily basis."

Tim glared at him again. "I didn't do it, it was old. It was falling apart, anyway."

"Okay, okay." Tony chuckled.

"Well, anyway, you can sleep on the couch or if you want, you can take the bed and I'll take the couch." Tim said.

Tony shrugged. "Nah, the couch is fine. It's better than the floor at least."

Tim shrugged and set the box he had been holding next to the couch. "Alright, well I'll let you get settled then." Then he went into his room and shut the door, before heading to his closet. Careful not to bump any of his bruises, he shed his jacket and shirt and searched for a shirt to sleep in.

As he reached in the closet to grab an old college shirt, Tony burst through the door. Quickly, Tim turned around to face Tony and lost his balance, falling into his closet.

"Hey, McGee, what are you doing in the closet?" Tony asked when he saw him. Then, realizing what he said, he chuckled. "McGee, it's time you came out of the closet."

Tim hid his upper body from Tony's view with the shirt he had been trying to grab. "Shut up, Tony. Get out. Don't you know how to knock?"

"Wow, someone is grouchy." Tony teased. "What's wrong with you?"

Tim scooted further into his closet. "Get out, at least for five minutes."

"Fine, I'm going." Tony said. Teasingly slow, Tony backed out of the room and shut the door.

Tim sighed and quickly put the shirt on before crawling out of the closet. Then he went over to the bedroom door and locked it before going to the bathroom door and closing that. His bathroom had two doors connecting it to his bedroom and the hall near the front door.

Tim went back to his closet and quickly changed out of his pants and into a pair of sweats. Then he went back to the bedroom door and opened it to find Tony standing on the other side with a grin on his face. "Now what do you want?" Tim asked.

"What was that about?" Tony asked.

"Nothing." Tim said. "What do you want? I need to go to bed now if I'm going to try to get any sleep."

"Oh." Tony said. Then he shrugged. "Nothing really; just going to ask if you had any extra blankets."

"Oh, they're in the closet next to the front door." Tim said.

"Oh, well good night then." Tony said as he headed to the closet.

"'Night." Tim said as he closed his bedroom door. He headed to his bed and pulled down the blankets before getting in. Sighing, he tried to relax his muscles and make himself fall asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Tim sat up in bed ten minutes before his alarm went off. He hadn't slept again last night. His head had been swimming with thoughts of what had happened yesterday and the day before. No matter what he did, he couldn't get his mind to shut up.

Groaning, Tim turned off the alarm to his clock before it could go off. Then he went to the bathroom and turned on the shower before stripping off his clothes and stepping in. As he showered, he felt his ribs and thought they might finally be healing and hoped they would heal properly without a doctor.

After finishing his shower, Tim turned off the water and got out, grabbing a towel at the same time and drying himself off. When he had finished, he realized he had forgotten to grab some clothes. He headed to the door to his bedroom and started to open it when a voice called from the other side.

"Hey, McGee, hurry up, will you? I need to shower, too."

Tony! He had completely forgotten that Tony had spent the night here. Looking down at himself, he knew that if he opened the door, Tony would see the bruises that he wasn't ready to share. "Tony, what are you doing in my room? Get out." He called.

"What's wrong with you?" Tony asked. "I just wanted to know when my turn to shower was."

"In a few minutes, you can shower. I just need to get my clothes but I can't do that if you're in my room. Get out!" Tim yelled.

"Oh, relax. What's the big deal? It's not like you have anything I haven't already seen on myself, you know." Then Tony paused before adding hesitantly. "You're not secretly a girl, are you?"

"No, Tony, I'm not. Just get out!" Tim shouted, glaring at the door.

"Alright, alright." Tony said. Tim heard him walk to the bedroom door, then the bedroom door opening and closing. Quickly, he opened the door and looked around his room before running out and locking his bedroom door. Then he ran back into the bathroom and locked the other door leading to the hall. Sighing in relief, he walked back into his room and to his closet and started getting dressed.

When he had finished, he walked back to his bedroom door and opened it. "You can go in now, Tony." Tim called. He stepped out of his room and glanced at Tony sitting on the couch.

Tony looked up. "It's about time." Tony stood up and headed into Tim's room and to the bathroom.

Tim rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed the coffee pot and filled it with water before getting the coffee mix and turning on the coffeemaker. Then he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a couple of hard boiled eggs he had made the other day. After a while of waiting, the coffee was completely made and he grabbed a coffee thermos from the cabinet when he heard Tony's voice.

"Hey, can you make me a cup too?" he asked.

Tim turned to find Tony standing next to the couch, searching through one of his boxes. "Tony, what are you doing? Put some clothes on, for crying out loud." Tony had come out of the bathroom with a single towel around his waist.

"That's what I'm trying to do. I left my clothes out here by accident so I'm getting them right now." Tony explained. He grabbed his clothes and started putting them on.

Tim rolled his eyes and turned his back on Tony, grabbing another thermos. He poured himself a thermos of coffee and started eating an egg. A few moments later, Tony came up to stand next to him. He grabbed the coffee pot and poured coffee into the thermos before turning to Tim.

"So, did you get any sleep last night?" he asked Tim.

Tim shook his head. "No, I still couldn't sleep."

"Why not?" Tony asked.

Tim shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, I just couldn't sleep. Too many things going through my head, I guess." Tim looked at his watch, not really wanting to explain what exactly was going through his mind. "We need to leave for work soon."

Tony looked at his watch. "Yeah, looks like it. Well, let's go then." he picked up his thermos and walked to the couch and grabbed his jacket. Tim nodded and picked up his own thermos and finished the last of his egg before going into his room and grabbing his work bag. Then they both headed out the door, Tim making sure to lock, and down to the parking lot.

Tim headed to his car and Tony headed to his. They had decided that they would continue to take separate cars to help keep suspicions low. Tim waited for Tony to pull out first before he followed. They drove to NCIS with hardly any problem until they got a few blocks from the building.

As Tim stopped behind Tony's car at the traffic lights, he glanced out of his door window and froze, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He recognized the man standing at the corner of the intersection, waiting to cross. He remembered that face sneering at him, the voice coming out of its mouth whispering its hatred of cops, just before a fist connected with his stomach.

_Why was he standing here? Was he spying on him again? Is that how they do it? No, maybe he's just there cuz he's walking somewhere. He couldn't possibly be following him. _His suspicions turned true when the guy turned his head in Tim's direction, met his eyes and glared at him. Tim swallowed hard, trying to keep himself calm. If he didn't stay calm, the guy would get suspicious and think he told someone, which he had.

When the light finally turned green, Tim couldn't take it anymore. He sped down the street, swerving around Tony and headed straight to NCIS, not stopping until he got to the gate. "Morning, Nathan." He said breathlessly.

Nathan stared at him in surprise before nodding his head. "Good morning, Agent McGee. Nice day?" he asked, scanning Tim's ID and opening the gate.

Tim nodded, taking his ID back. "Yeah, so far." He said, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Then he drove through the gate and parked in an available space. He got out of his car and leaned against it, resting his forehead on the window frame. _'Deep breaths, Tim. Relax.'_ He told himself.

Tony pulled up beside him and got out of his car. "You alright?" he asked, coming to stand next to him. "You took off like Death himself was behind you. What happened?"

Tim took a shaky breath and turned to Tony. _He couldn't take it anymore. He had to tell him. He had to tell someone or he was sure he would go insane._ Tim shook his head, not sure what to say.

Tony seemed to find that irritating, thinking Tim was trying to avoid the question. "Oh, before I forget, Gibbs called. He said when we get here, you need to go into the interrogation room and refix the computer. He said that he tried it last night and it wouldn't even turn on. So let's go." He grabbed Tim's arm and dragged him into the building and over to the elevator.

"Tony, wait, I need to talk to Ducky real quick." Tim said, trying to pull his arm out of Tony's grip.

"It can wait, Probie." Tony said, not letting go. He pulled Tim into the elevator and waited until they got to their floor before dragging him through their office space, passing a startled looking Ziva.

"Tony? McGee? Tony, where are you taking McGee?" Ziva asked, standing up and walking toward them.

Tony turned. "McGee needs to fix the computer again in the interrogation room." He said, giving her a look that said there was more.

Ziva took the clue and followed them down the hall to the interrogation room. When they entered, Tony shoved Tim into the room. "Start setting up, McGee. You have a job to do."

Without a word, Tim pulled his laptop out of his bag and set it on the table next to the computer he was supposed to 'fix'. Then he turned the music on and adjusted the volume before turning back around. Tony stood leaning against the two way window and Tim sat in the computer chair facing him. Ziva stood leaning against the doorframe, waiting to see what would happen.

"So, what's going on? I know there's more than what you told us, a lot more." Tony said. "I've tried to be patient, McGee, and so has everyone else. But you're getting sick. You were practically puking your stomach out yesterday; you were puking so much, you had nothing left to puke up in that alley. I saw the way Abby looked at you in the lab and the way you avoided looking at the body, not to mention the way you looked when you found out about the dead officers in the first place. And then your constant lack of sleep, followed by your actions today, when you, of all people, went racing right past me like a madman. You never speed. So, spill."

Tim sighed and glanced at the ground. _What should he say? He didn't want to tell them everything, but if he didn't tell them something, Abby would definitely try to get him to explain everything. If he confided in Tony and Ziva, maybe they could help him come up with something to tell Abby without telling her the truth. He knew she would be extremely upset if she knew anything about this. He had no other choice; he was going to tell them. He couldn't take it anymore._

"I'm waiting, McGee. You're not getting out of explaining this." Tony said.

Tim sighed again and stood up, still not looking at them. Carefully, he shrugged out of his jacket, and then started unbuttoning his shirt.

Tony's eyes widened. "Uh, McGee, I didn't ask you to strip. What are you doing?" He turned to Ziva, who shared an equally confused look.

Tim paused and glared at him. "Just shut up. This is hard enough as it is. You asked for an explanation and I'm going to give it to you, but just shut up and let me do it my way."

Tony looked at him in surprise, and then shrugged. "Okay."

Tim continued to unbutton his shirt and then opened it and showed them his bare skin. Tony stood up straight and stared at Tim's discolored skin. Ziva cursed in Arabic. His ribs and stomach were covered in black, blue, and dark purple blotches, with his rib area looking abnormally swollen and black. Then Tim turned around and let his shirt drop to the ground next to his jacket. Tony swore when he saw Tim's back, more blotches spread out around the hardly visible pale skin.

"What the hell happened to you?" Tony asked when he could speak again.

Tim turned back around to face Tony and Ziva, not looking at either of them. "**They** did this. They did this to me on Sunday, while I was on my way home from that new bakery down the street from my apartment. You know the one that the lieutenant's body was found in?"

"Yeah, I know which one." Tony said quietly.

Tim nodded, still refusing to look at them. He didn't want to see it; he didn't want to see the looks of horror and pity that he knew were in their eyes. He knew he would break if he saw those expressions on the faces that were supposed to be strong at all times. "They dragged me behind an alley half way to my apartment and took off my clothes before they started punching and kicking me. For some reason, they didn't do anything to my face. I don't know if it was on purpose or if they didn't realize it." He purposefully left out the other part, the part he never wanted to reveal to anyone.

Ziva took a step forward and gently placed the tip of her fingers on one of the bruises on his ribs. Tim flinched but didn't pull away. Carefully, Ziva bent down and started examining his ribs. Then she looked up at him. "McGee, these ribs look broken."

Tim shrugged, not meeting her eyes. "I'm fine. They've started healing on their own."

"But they don't look like they've healed properly." Ziva said. She gently pressed on one of the bruises and Tim hissed in pain, shifting away from her. "No, they haven't healed the way they're supposed to. Perhaps we should get you to a doctor."

Tim shifted his gaze to her and shook his head. "No, if I go to the hospital, **they'll **know. They'll find out that I told and even if they don't find out that I told you guys, the doctors will definitely find out." Not to mention that if he went, the doctors will also find out about the _other_ issue, and that he could not allow. "I'm fine. If it starts to hurt again, then I'll go."

Ziva looked like she wanted to argue but decided against it. "Alright, but you better tell someone when it hurts or else I'm telling Gibbs and he will drag you to the doctor himself."

Yeah, that sounded like something Gibbs would do. "Fine." Tim said reluctantly.

Finally Tony spoke up. "You know we're going to have to show this to Gibbs, right?"

Tim's eyes widened in shock. Before he could protest, Tony left the room, returning moments later with Gibbs.

Gibbs entered the room and froze, catching sight of Tim and his discolored torso. Then he turned to Tony, who closed the door and leaned against it, then at Ziva, still checking over his bruises, and finally looked at Tim, meeting his eyes. "How?" Was all he asked.

Quickly, he retold Gibbs what he had told Tony and Ziva, finishing with, "Some of it looks worse than it is, like my ribs."

Without a word, Gibbs turned and left the room. The others stared at each other for a moment before Gibbs returned with Ducky. "My word." Ducky whispered. Quickly, he strode over to Tim and placed an expert hand on his ribs, pressing gently. Tim flinched again. "These ribs don't look like they healed properly at all. In fact, they rather feel out of place, as if they had been broken and shifted around."

Gibbs went up to the side of Tim and slapped the back of his head. "Why didn't you go to a doctor when they first broke?"

Tim just shrugged, not wanting to look at anyone. He wished he could melt into the floor; wished the floor would open up into an abyss and swallow him whole. But he knew that even if it did, Gibbs wouldn't let him get away. '_This was a bad idea. I never should have told them.'_ He thought to himself.

"What should we do, boss?" Tony asked, trying to save McGee before Gibbs killed him for his stupidity. "We can't take him to a doctor. If we do, **they** will find out and who knows what they'll do."

Before Gibbs could answer, Tim spoke again. "There's more." Gibbs looked at him sharply. He could feel everyone staring at him as he stared at the floor. "The ones who did this, they're the same ones who killed Officer Malloy and Lieutenant Leme. One guy, I think he was their leader or something, he told me that they hated cops. They knew I was with NCIS. I don't know how, but they did. I don't think they are picky about which cops, I think to them everyone who is an officer of some kind is considered a cop. They even wore shirts that said 'Down With America'.

"Wait a minute, I think I'm confused." Said Tony.

"You think?" Ziva asked.

"Well, what I mean is, if these guys are the same ones who killed the other two officers, why didn't they kill you? No offense or anything, I'm just saying." Tony said, ignoring Ziva's comment.

"And according to the reports, both of them were **raped** and beaten." Gibbs said, staring at Tim's face when he said the word.

Tim looked away and shrugged. "I don't know why, but they didn't kill me. I think they did that on purpose, though."

"Well, whatever the case, it makes sense now why they're following you so much." Tony said. "So what are we doing, boss?"

Gibbs finally tore his gaze from Tim and looked at Tony. "The agenda stays the same. We keep an eye on McGee, we find the bastards who did this, and we bring them down."

Ziva nodded in full agreement. "I agree. And I think the best way to start should be to continue looking at the case with the dead bodies. It's the safest way to find clues without drawing suspicion to McGee."

"Agreed." Gibbs said. Then he glanced around the room, eyes lingering on Tim. "Everyone back to work." Then he left the room.

As everyone else started leaving the room after Gibbs, Ducky bent down, picked up Tim's shirt and handed it to him. As Tim reached for it, Ducky leaned into him and whispered, "You do realize that your ribs could have healed improperly and that in order to fix them, the doctors are going to have to re-break them, which will be a painful process, whether you're awake or not when they do it."

Tim nodded, putting his shirt back on and buttoning it back up. "I know, but right now, I'm willing to deal with that." He whispered back.

Ducky nodded and bent down again to pick up and hand Tim his jacket. "Good, as long as you realize that." Then he and Tim followed the others out the door.

* * *

The rest of the morning, and part of the afternoon was spent without much happening. It wasn't until around three o'clock that anything interesting happened. Gibbs got a call and, after several moments of talking on the phone, told the others that there was another body.

"A marine officer, William Reece, was found dead in an abandoned storage shed at the pier just now." Gibbs said.

Tim, computers being his specialty, quickly brought up William Reece's file. The picture and standard information popped up on the screen between his and Tony's desks. "William Reece, retired marine officer, age 67." Tim said. Now that everyone knew the vast majority of what had happened to him, he didn't feel so uncomfortable anymore.

"He was retired?" Tony asked. "Why would they go after a **retired** marine?"

"Maybe they don't care who it is, as long as it is a cop of some kind." Ziva suggested. "They made that pretty clear by attacking two different types of officers already."

"We'll worry about it later. Let's go." Gibbs said, grabbing his stuff. The others grabbed their things and headed out.

When they reached the crime scene, Tim was able to work a bit better, still avoiding the body, but able to work diligently with gathering evidence. They worked at a slow pace, making sure they got everything that could possibly be considered evidence. After they had finished, Ducky and Palmer took the body away and everyone returned to NCIS. No one spoke much, not knowing how much to say without making it obvious that they had gotten the information from Tim.

They continued to work on their reports for their current case until well into the night. After finally finishing his papers, Tim stood up and stretched. "I'm going to head home, you guys. I'll see you tomorrow."

Tony stood up. "Hang on, I'll go with you. I just finished right now." He placed his papers in a folder and placed it in a drawer. Then he grabbed his keys and his bag and headed with Tim to the elevator. "See you tomorrow, Ziva."

Tim and Tony entered the elevator and waited for it to reach the main floor before continuing on to the parking lot. Tim got to his car and pulled out of his parking space, and then headed out of the parking lot. "See you tomorrow, Nathan." Tim said, handing his ID to him to scan.

"Good night, Agent McGee." Nathan said, handing him back his ID and opening the gate.

Tim drove through and looked in the rearview mirror as Tony stopped and handed Nathan his ID. Tim continued to drive down the street, going a little under the speed limit to give Tony a chance to catch up. When he saw Tony's car I his mirror, he continued on in the posted speed limit. As he drove, he glanced in his rearview mirror again to see blue and red flashing lights behind Tony's car. He glanced at his speedometer. He was going the speed limit and Tony was behind him, meaning he had to go the speed limit, too. So why was he getting pulled over?

Tim pulled over a few feet in front of Tony and waited. He waited and watched the officer walk up to Tony's car and spoke with him when his cell phone rang. Figuring it was okay since he wasn't driving at the moment, Tim answered it. It was Tony.

"Hey, McGee, keep going, I'll meet you in a minute. It's nothing big." Tony said. "I'm almost finished."

"Okay." Tim said. Then he hung up and drove off, heading to his apartment building and hoping Tony wouldn't take too long. He said he was almost finished. Tim continued on until he reached his apartment's parking lot. As he pulled into a parking space, pulled his keys out of the ignition and placed them in his pocket, he glanced over his shoulder but Tony still hadn't caught up with him. He was just wondering where Tony could have gotten to when his door was yanked open and arms reached in and grabbed him, placing a hand over his mouth and pulling him from the car.

As he struggled, a voice whispered in his ear. "You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you, cop?" Tim froze, his body turning cold as though his blood had turned to ice. Panic and fear overwhelmed him and he let out a muffled whimper as several arms grabbed and lifted him, carrying him away from his car. Tim struggled even harder to get free, at the same time searching for any sign of Tony, but he knew it was hopeless. They had caught him and they weren't going to let him go. And Tony was nowhere to be seen.

They traveled a short distance before throwing him on the ground. Before he could get his bearings, a sharp pain surged through his body, causing him to scream in pain as he felt his ribs rebreak from a kick. Several more kicks and punches rained on him, hitting his stomach, ribs, back, legs, and face, before he blacked out.

* * *

When Tim finally came to, he noticed three things. One: it was dark; Two: he was naked; Three: he was alone. Taking a deep shaky breath, he tried to push himself into a sitting position but stopped, screaming, as his entire body erupted in a searing pain. He dropped back down onto his stomach, waiting for the pain to subside, before trying again, slower this time. The pain came again but this time it was more bearable. Pushing himself off the ground a bit and he glanced around him, his gaze landed on something shiny near a low wall. Reaching over and grabbing it, he found that it was his keys.

Then, carefully and slowly, he literally dragged himself across the parking lot into the apartment building, sliding himself along the floor to the elevator. It took him what seemed like hours to reach up and push the button for the elevator. His head was spinning when the elevator car finally arrived. He dragged himself inside and spent ten whole minutes trying to push the button to his floor before collapsing back on the ground, breathing painfully heavy. When the doors finally opened on his floor, he dragged himself down the hall to his apartment, thankfully not meeting anyone along the way.

Painfully slow, he stuck his keys in the lock and unlocked his door, pushing it open and crawling through. His head throbbing painfully as he wondered again what had happened to Tony, he used the last of his strength to kick his front door shut, not bothering or even thinking of pulling his key out of the doorknob, before slipping back into oblivion once more.

* * *

**A/N: so what did you guys think? Kind of slow in some parts but otherwise it wasn't so bad, I think. Please read and review and let me know what you think and if I should keep writing.**


	7. Not Your Fault

**A/N: Hey peoples. Just want to apologize for the long update. I just got a new laptop but I have to wait for it to get fixed by the guy I'm buying it from first. It doesn't have word processor or anything yet but it will soon. In the mean time, I am using my friends laptop still and I actually had this chapter written out already but for some reason, every time I tried to log on to my account on this laptop, it lets me log on but I can't do anything. I can click on the tabs but like say I want to view my favorite stories. I click on favorites and it pops up but it doesn't let me view my stories I favorite. Same thing with publishing. I can't view my stories or publish anything. Yet for some reason it lets me do all of that on a different computer. So basically there are a lot of difficulties going on but hopefully by next month it should get better and easier to publish chapters. Thanks for your patience.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS OR ANYTHING ELSE THAT IS OBVIOUSLY NOT OWNED BY ME. DR. HITSUGAYA IS MINE BUT THE NAME I GOT FROM TOSHIRO HITSUGAYA FROM THE ANIME 'BLEACH'. Enjoy.**

**Chapter Seven: Not Your Fault**

Tony swore as he glanced up into his rear view mirror, seeing the flashing blue and red lights. What did he do now? It couldn't be for speeding; not with Grandpa McSlowpoke in front of him. He almost never speeds, with the exception of that other time and Tony is right behind him. So, what could they want with him?

Tony pulled over to the side of the road, noticing Tim doing the same a few feet ahead. He watched in his rear view mirror as the cop got out of his car and approached his door. Tony pushed the button on his door and rolled down the window. "Can I help you, officer?" he asked with a grin.

"License and registration?" the officer asked, ignoring Tony's question.

Tony reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a stack of papers. Shifting through them, he pulled out his registration papers and handed them, with his license and work ID, to the man. "What's this about?" he asked again.

The man continued to ignore him, glancing at his ID and grinning. "Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo, of NCIS. You're a cop."

Tony grinned again. "Yeah, technically. An agent really, not necessarily a cop."

The officer shrugged. "A cop is a cop is a cop. That's all."

"Oh." Tony said. _Okay, what's with this guy?_

The officer glanced toward Tim's car. "That a friend of yours?"

"Yeah, I'm staying at his place until the issue with one of my ex's blows over. You know how that is."

"No." The man said.

"Oh. Well, it's kind of messy, see-" Tony started.

"I don't care." The officer snapped. "Tell your friend to go. There's no need for him here. I just need to check these real quick."

Tony glared at the man before pulling out his cell phone and dialing Tim's cell. "Hey, McGee, keep going. It's no big, I'm almost finished here."

"Okay." Tim said.

Tony hung up and watched as Tim drove away a few seconds later. "Happy?"

"Euphoric." He said.

'_Yew-what?'_ Tony thought. _'Whatever. Wonder how those formal complaint things work? Maybe I can make one out for this jerk.' _Tony glanced at the guys name tag as he walked back to his patrol car. _'T. Malloy. Malloy. Where have I heard that name before?'_ Suddenly Tony's eyes widened. '_T. Malloy. Tanya Malloy, dead police officer. She's dead. So who…? Oh, shit.'_

Tony started to reach for his gun when another thought hit him. _'What if this is a trap? McGee!'_ Tony turned on the car and started to pull out before slamming on the breaks. A man stood in front of his car, wearing a white T-shirt with the words 'Down With America' across the top. The man lifted his hand and Tony got a glimpse of something long and metal before it was brought down on the hood of his car.

Tony reached down and grabbed his gun. As he straightened back up, his back windshield shattered and a sudden sharp pain in his shoulder had him gasping and clutching his shoulder. Quickly, he threw himself across the passenger seat as his front windshield shattered. _What was happening? He didn't hear any gunshots; what was making his windshields break? It could be a silencer._

Before Tony could think anything else, his passenger side window shattered, making him throw his arms up over his head in an attempt to protect it from the falling glass. Quickly, he threw open his passenger door and dragged himself out. Using the car as a shield, Tony brought up his gun and fired behind him at the man with the gun. The man ducked and fired back. Tony ducked as the window in front of him shattered. _'My car.'_ Tony thought. _'Oh, there is definitely going to be hell to pay.'_

Tony reached up to the newly-broken window and fired at the guy. As the guy ducked, Tony stood up, intent on firing again before the other guy got his bearings, and suddenly felt another sharp pain across his back. Crying out as pain followed the sounds of cracking ribs, Tony fell to the ground, landing on his hands and knees. Quickly, he whirled around and shot the man that had hit him. The bullet connected with the man's head, causing him to fall backwards to the ground. Tony gasped for air and turned to continue firing at the other man when another burst of pain erupted from his upper left thigh. Clutching his leg, he looked up to see the "officer" pointing his gun at him.

"You're the ones after McGee, aren't you?" he gasped out, still clutching his leg and gun.

"Don't know who that is. A cop is a cop. They're all the same." The man said. "And you, Cop, look like you're in a great deal of pain. Does that hurt?"

"A bit." Tony said.

The man sneered. "Does this?" Quickly, he shifted his gun's angle and fired.

Tony jerked and cried out again as another sharp pain burst from his left hip. Gasping for air, Tony asked, "Why are you doing this? What did cops ever do to you?"

The man glared at him and shot Tony's left arm, causing him to clamp his teeth shut before he could cry out again. He wasn't going to give this guy the satisfaction of knowing how much pain he was inflicting on him. "Cops ruin everything." The man said.

"But why leave McGee alive? Why didn't you kill him like the others?" Tony asked.

The man scoffed. "Ah, now I know who you're talking about." He shrugged. "Just for the fun of it. We were bored and wanted to see how long he would go before squealing to his little cop friends." Then as an afterthought, the man grinned nastily at him. "But don't worry. That'll change soon. Just like it will for you."

Tony saw the man aim his gun at his chest. Thinking rapidly, Tony glanced over the man's shoulder, thinking that this would be the perfect time for Gibbs to pop up and save the day. As he glanced over the guy's shoulder, he noticed the guy to the same. Without giving it another thought, Tony wildly raised his gun and fired.

The man froze before falling over onto Tony. Tony grunted in pain as the now dead man's weight hit his wounded leg. Taking a few moments to catch his breath and morn his ruined car, Tony shoved the man off him and pushed himself painfully to his feet. He had to get to Tim before those bastards did. He just hoped he got there in time.

Keeping his gun ready in his hand, Tony reached in his car for his cell phone, which he had dropped onto the seat in his haste to get out. He flipped open his phone to find the screen broken. Hoping it was nothing damaging, he dialed Tim's number. The phone remained silent. Cursing his lack of luck, he threw it back on the seat and turned.

Wincing, Tony reached down and grabbed the fake officer's gun, and his ID card, license and registration papers, and then, as an afterthought, took the name tag from the man's chest before starting his painful trek to Tim's apartment building.

*** * ***

Tony scanned the parking lot quickly before spotting Tim's car. Quickly he limped over and checked it out. The driver's side door was wide open with no one inside the car. Tony turned away from the vacant car and saw something lying on the ground near the back of the car next to Tim's. Quickly, Tony limped over to it and picked it up. It was a dark brown leather wallet. Flicking it open, Tony saw the driver's license say it was Tim's.

"McGee." Tony called quietly, weaving through the parked cars. When he reached the low wall at the end of the parking lot, he turned, planning on searching through the cars again, when something wet and shiny caught his attention as his gaze drifted past the space between the apartment building and the low wall.

Tony limped up to the puddle, and crouched down in front of it, wincing at the pain in his injured hip and thigh. Examining the thick dark puddle, Tony was, at first, unable to tell what it was in the dark. Then he reached down and dipped his fingers into the puddle and put them up to his eyes and was able to conclude that it was blood. Searching the rest of the area, Tony noticed that the blood was trailing away from the area and heading towards the front of the apartment building.

Following the trail, Tony made his way to the front doors and entered the building. He followed the trail to the elevators and carefully pushed the bloody 'up' button, making sure not to get too much of his own fingerprint on it. When he entered the elevator, he pushed the edge of the bloody button that he knew led to Tim's floor.

As the elevator doors opened, Tony's eyes followed the blood until it stopped just outside Tim's door at the end of the hall. Quickly, Tony left the elevator and approached Tim's door, gun ready. Seeing Tim's keys in the doorknob, Tony carefully pulled them out and opened the door as quietly as possible.

"Tim." Tony whispered when he saw Tim's bleeding body on the floor in front of the door. Quickly, Tony searched the rest of the apartment, going from room to room, making sure they were alone before grabbing Tim's home phone and a sheet from the hall closet before returning to his body. "Hang on, Tim, I'll get help." Tony promised, draping the sheet over Tim's naked body in an attempt to save him some of his dignity, not noticing that he had started calling Tim by his first name. Tony called the first person that came to his mind.

"Gibbs." Came his boss's voice.

"Boss, it's Tim he's hurt and I don't know what to do there's so much blood and he's not moving what do I do I –"

"Tony, calm down." Gibbs commanded. He was just getting ready to leave work for the night. He was able to make out bits of what Tony had been trying to say and had already grabbed his keys and bolted down the flight of stairs to the parking lot and his car. "Take a deep breath and start again. Slowly, this time."

Tony took a deep breath as instructed and tried again. "I was following Tim home and I got pulled over by a cop who turned out to not be a cop but was actually one of the guys who had attacked Tim and he was wearing Officer Malloy's name tag and I think her clothes too, which was how I noticed him but I had already told Tim to go ahead of me to the apartment, and I know I shouldn't have but I didn't think and then the guy started firing at me and I had to defend myself against him and the other guy with a bat or something and when I was finished I got here as quickly as I could but I was too late and Tim's bleeding and he's not moving, and, and –"

"Dinozzo!" Gibbs snapped as he barreled down the street towards Tim's apartment building.

"Sorry!" Tony gasped. "But, boss, what do I do?"

"I'm on my way, don't worry." Gibbs said. "Did you check for a pulse? And did you call an ambulance?"

Tony mentally slapped himself. "No, I didn't do either. I didn't think. The first thing I did was call you. I didn't even think of anything else. I'll check right now." Carefully Tony reached down and pressed his fingers to Tim's wrist, sighing in relief when he felt a slow pulse. "It's there but it's really slow."

"Okay I'm about a block away. Hang up and call an ambulance." Gibbs ordered before snapping his own phone shut and speeding towards the apartment building's parking lot.

Tony shut off his phone, waited a few seconds, and then called 911. "911 emergency." A woman's voice said.

"I need an ambulance down here right now. There's an NCIS agent lying on his apartment floor covered in blood and bruises and who knows what else wrong with him and I need to get him to a hospital immediately." Tony said in a rush.

"Okay, sir, just calm down. You failed to give us an address in that statement but we tracked the address through the phone." She said. "An ambulance is on its way there now. It should be reaching your location in ten minutes."

"Good. I gotta go." Tony said as Gibbs entered the apartment. Quickly he snapped his phone shut and waited for Gibbs to crouch beside him. "An ambulance is on its way. They said it should be here in about ten minutes or so."

Gibbs nodded but didn't say anything. Carefully he reached down and pressed his fingers to the side of Tim's neck. After feeling his slow pulse, Gibbs lifted up the sheet to see the damage.

Tony turned his head away when Gibbs lifted the sheet. "I'm sorry boss." Tony whispered, gazing down at Tim's bruised and bleeding face. "I know how much you hate sorrys but I can't help it. This is all my fault. I promised Tim I would protect him and keep him safe from those guys. And I failed him. He was counting on me and I let him down."

Gibbs glared at Tony and slapped the back of his head. "Tony, look at me." Tony looked up into his boss' face. "This is not your fault. You didn't do this to him, those bastards did. They tricked you two into separating and attacked you both individually."

Before Tony could argue further, a group of paramedics and police officers swarmed into the room. Tony and Gibbs stepped back to let the paramedics examine Tim's body. One of the officer's approached them and started asking questions. "Which of you found the body?"

"He's not dead, so don't call him 'the body'." Tony snapped. "He has a name."

"Tony." Gibbs said.

Tony glared at the guy before sighing. "Sorry. I found him." Quickly and with a nod from Gibbs, Tony explained everything to the officer, from Tim being targeted by the men who were responsible for the deaths of Officer Malloy, Lieutenant Leme, and ex-Marine Officer Reece, to the plan they had come up with to protect Tim, to Tony following Tim home and getting pulled over by one of the men who had attacked Tim, and finally ending with Tony finding Tim's body and calling Gibbs before calling for an ambulance. "Here." Tony said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out Officer Malloy's name tag and gun. "Thought you might want these back."

The officer took the name tag and gun from Tony with a sorrowful expression. "Thank you."

"Hang on." Gibbs called behind him as the paramedics started to roll Tim out the door on a gurney. Both paramedics paused and turned to him. "Take him with you. He needs to see a doctor as well." Gibbs said, pushing Tony towards them.

"Boss, I'm fine." Tony said, confused.

"You're not fine, Tony. Or did you forget that blood is dripping from your left leg, your left arm and your right shoulder?" Gibbs said.

Tony looked down at the wounds on his leg and then his arm and finally his shoulder. He _had_ forgotten about them. Seeing Tim the way he was had completely shoved all other thoughts to the back of him mind. "But –"

"No buts, Dinozzo." Gibbs said firmly. He pointed to the door. "Go."

"Yes, boss." Tony said. As he headed for the door, Gibbs called.

"While you're on your way there, call Ziva and tell her to meet us at the hospital. I'll call Ducky and Abby." Gibbs said.

Tony was about to tell Gibbs that Tim hadn't wanted Abby to know about this but figuring it wasn't fair to her, he just nodded. "On it, boss. But I don't have a phone. Mine is broken in my mercilessly destroyed car."

Gibbs tossed him his. "Now go." Tony nodded and headed out the door after the paramedics. Then Gibbs turned back to the officer. "Do you have any more questions?"

The officer shook his head. "No, Agent Gibbs. But if you have any questions for us or need anything, please, don't hesitate to ask."

Gibbs nodded before turning on his heels and picking up the home phone Tony had left on the ground. Quickly, Gibbs called Ducky. "Ducky, head to the hospital. Tim's on his way there in an ambulance with Tony. Tony's fine but has a few injuries of his own. I'll explain when I get there." Then he hung up and dialed Abby's number.

"Hey, Tim." Abby said when she answered. Since Gibbs was using Tim's home phone, Abby had assumed it was him from the caller ID.

"Abby, it's Gibbs." He said. He had decided to call her last, knowing she would be more difficult to explain things to than Ducky. "I need you to listen very carefully to me and don't speak until I'm done. Tim's on his way to the hospital in an ambulance. Tony's with him and they should be getting there shortly. I need you to meet me at the hospital right now. I'll explain everything then, not now, there's no time. Understand?"

There was a pause, in which Gibbs could hear her stifle a sob. "Yes." She whispered.

After he hung up, Gibbs shut off the phone and headed out of the now empty apartment, locking the door on the way out. Then he headed down to the parking lot and into his car, heading for the hospital.

*** * ***

When Gibbs entered the hospital ten minutes later, it was to a hysterical Abby, a calm yet concerned Ducky, a nervous Palmer, and a dangerously narrow-eyed Ziva. As soon as he walked into the waiting room, he was bombarded with questions from all sides.

"What happened to Timmy?" Abby.

"Where was Tony?" Ziva.

"Is he okay?" Palmer.

"What's wrong with Tony?" Ducky.

"Gibbs!" Abby.

"Gibbs?" Ziva.

"Uh, sir?" Palmer.

"Jethro, are you alright?" Ducky.

"Will all of you just shut up and give me a minute?!" Gibbs shouted. Everyone paused, surprised that Gibbs snapped the way he did, and mumbling their apologies, even though they all know about Gibbs' rule about apologies. Whatever had happened to Tim must have been extremely bad if it made Gibbs so upset.

When it looked like he wasn't going to be further bombarded, he started explaining. "First off, I don't know all of the details about what happened. All I know is what I saw when I got to his apartment and what Tony told me. Wait!" he said, holding up a hand as Abby started to ask a question. "Tony is in with the doctor right now. As far as I saw, he has a few bullet wounds on his left leg, left arm and right shoulder. I'm telling you this right now; Tony was ambushed and tricked into separating from McGee. When he realized what was going on, he literally risked his life to get to McGee before they did, defending himself against two of those guys by himself. So when he gets back out here, I don't want to hear a word from any of you about McGee's condition being his fault. You all know damn well this will be eating at him enough as it is without any help from everyone else. Is that clear?"

"Of course." Ziva said with a nod. She knew how she would have felt if Tim had gotten hurt under her watch. She would have felt like the entire thing was her fault and that she had failed Tim. "You are right, it is not his fault."

"Absolutely not." Ducky said. "These men obviously know what they're doing and had planned on separating them to begin with. They obviously planned it to happen this way, so it really isn't his fault at all." Palmer nodded vigorously.

"That's right." Abby chimed in.

"Good." Gibbs said. "Now based on what Tony told me, one of the men had pulled Tony over, pretending to be Officer Malloy, and had convinced him to separate from McGee. Then a second guy appeared and started bashing his car in and at the same time, the "officer" started firing at him, forcing him to defend himself against them. When he finally got a chance, he hurried back to McGee's apartment building and followed the trail of blood all the way to the elevators and up to his apartment. Now, I'm only going to say that McGee was in pretty bad shape. I'm not going to lie, there was blood all over his body and cuts and bruises everywhere. And I'm betting he has more broken bones than he had before."

"What do you mean by 'before'?" Abby asked.

Everyone paused, avoiding her eyes, except Palmer, who looked just as confused. Finally, Gibbs explained to Abby what had happened the day Tim had showed up at work looking extremely tired and sick and how Tony had followed him into the bathroom when he had gotten sick and found out a lot of things about what was wrong with him. Then they had gone with Gibbs into the interrogation room and explained what had happened and they had come up with the plan to protect him. Then he explained about Tim taking them into the interrogation room a couple days later and showed them the mass amounts of bruises along his torso, leading up to the more recent events.

"I can't believe you guys didn't tell me!" Abby cried. "Why didn't you tell me what was going on? How could you guys?"

"McGee didn't want you to worry." Ziva explained. "He made us swear not to tell you for fear of you getting hurt. It was a big risk for him to even tell us."

"Exactly." Said a voice behind them. Everyone turned to see Tony being wheeled through a pair of double doors by a tall Asian man in a long white lab coat with short wavy black hair and oval-shaped black rimmed glasses.

"Tony!" shouted Abby, rushing towards him ahead of everyone else.

"Whoa, there." The doctor said, holding up a hand to stop Abby. He turned to the rest of the group. "He's still a bit groggy from the drugs and shouldn't be put under too much stress. I would recommend you keep the hugs and questions to a minimum, please. For his sake."

"Yeah, keep the bugs and questions to a min –mini –minimum." Tony stuttered.

"And he's still a bit loopy." The doctor added.

"My name is not Loopy." Tony said, scowling up at the doctor. "It's … it's … um…"

"Tony." Ziva said helpfully, an amused smile on her face at Tony's odd behavior.

"Yeah, that's it." Tony said with a goofy grin on his face. "That's me. Not this Loopy person. And as for you," he said to Abby. "Don't blame nothing on Tim. You don't know what he went through. I made him tell me. He was scared s-s-s-ssshitless when he realized I had been able to convince him into telling me more than he wanted to. He said he was told that if he telled us anything that he wasn't to say, they would do whatever they had done to him on Sunday to him and do it to the person he told. Meaning me and Gibbs and Ziva. Ducky found out cuz Mr. Gibbs couldn't keep his mouth shut and pulled him into the interrogation room when Tim was showing us he bruises. Bad Gibbs."

Ziva tried, and failed, to keep from laughing at Tony's 'honesty' to Gibbs that would, under different circumstances, get him fired faster than she could blink. Ducky smiled at Gibbs as Palmer looked away to keep Gibbs from seeing him smirk. Abby, however, frowned at him.

"Abby, it's not Tony's fault and it's not Tim's fault." Gibbs said. "Tony is, however, right in saying that you shouldn't blame Tim. You know how he is with keeping things from people if he thinks it would bother them or endanger them. Which is why he didn't tell you or Palmer. Hell, the director didn't even know."

"Okay." Abby said in a small voice. She knew that this was just how Tim was and to be honest, she was kind of flattered that Tim had tried to keep her safe by not telling her, even though she did feel a bit insulted.

Gibbs turned back to the doctor. "So how is he, Dr …?" he asked, nodding to Tony, who was playing with the wheels of the wheel chair.

"Dr. Hitsugaya." The doctor said, smiling down at Tony before looking back at Gibbs. "He's fine. He has a bullet wound on his upper left thigh, another on his left hip, and another on his left arm, just above the elbow. He also has a bullet wound on his right shoulder that went all the way through to the other side without doing any damage to the tendons there. We were able to remove all of the bullets, except for the right shoulder since that bullet is missing, and patched up the wounds without any problems. However, the biggest injury was his ribs."

"There's nothing wrong with me." Tony said. "I feel just good. I'm fine, see." Tony lurched out of his wheel chair and would have landed face first on the tiled floor if six pairs of hands hadn't kept him from falling. "Well, I was fine." Tony said as he was placed back in the wheel chair.

"His leg is going to keep him from walking on it for a while, so he will need crutches. The wheel chair is just until the drugs wear off." The doctor said.

"I'm not on drugs." Tony said. "Gibbs would kill me if I was."

"What was it about his ribs?" Ducky asked.

"Several of his ribs were broken from behind." Dr. Hitsugaya said, glancing down at the clipboard he had been carrying in his hand. "He has a rather nasty bruise across his back and several of the ribs underneath said bruise have been broken. Nothing too severe, but he will have to keep from doing anything laborious that would damage the muscles in his back."

Everyone nodded including Tony, who was only nodding because everyone else was doing it. "And what about Tim?" Abby asked.

"He's still in surgery." Dr. Hitsugaya stated sadly. He hesitated before looking into Gibbs' eyes. "Do you mind if I be completely honest instead of beating around the bush in a false attempt to make it sound less terrible than it actually is?"

"Please." Gibbs said with a nod. He hated it when doctors tried to make a bad situation better by taking forever to say it. The others nodded in agreement, though Abby was a little hesitant.

Dr. Hitsugaya nodded before continuing. "He wasn't looking so good. He ended up flat-lining once while we were examining him. It took several moments to resuscitate him. Afterwards we had to proceed with extreme caution in order to keep it from happening again during the surgery." Just then, a voice above their heads called out, "Dr. Hitsugaya, you are needed in surgery immediately. Dr. Hitsugaya, to surgery immediately."

"Excuse me." Dr. Hitsugaya quickly pushed the wheel chair to Ziva, who was closest, and quickly ran back down the hall and through the double doors leading to surgery.

**A/N: so what did you guys think? Not bad? I made this one extra long just for my readers. Again, sorry I took so long but I will try to get this done. I have not given up on this, no matter how long it takes me to update. I also have a poll on my profile asking which of my three stories I should focus on writing first. Please let me know what you think. And don't forget to review! Bye.**


	8. Broken

**A/N: Hey everyone. The majority of the author's note will be at the bottom. Just want to say thanks for coming back to this for the next chapter. It's not as long as I want it to be but at least it's up. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Eight: Broken**

About an hour later everyone, including a now non-drugged Tony, looked up as a tired looking Dr. Hitsugaya slowly walked through the double doors towards them. Gibbs and crew leaped up from their seats, or rolled up to him in Tony's case, as he approached and stopped in front of them. "How is he?" Gibbs asked, trying to keep the calm in his voice from changing to the worry he felt.

"May I speak honestly again?" Everyone nodded. Dr. Hitsugaya exhaled before continuing. "Not good. He's in critical condition. I'm just going to start from the top and work my way down." He glanced at his clipboard before looking back up at them. "He has a concussion, not to sever, but enough to keep him unconscious for quite awhile. He has large amounts of bruises all over his body, including his face. His right eye has completely swelled to the point where it has sealed itself shut. It'll take some time, how much I'm not yet sure, before the swelling goes down enough to see out of.

His lower lip has been sliced open and his nose broken. The break wasn't to sever, so we were able to set it right without any problems. They both should heal in no time, however his nose will be painful to breathe through and he will have to learn to breathe through his mouth for a while, which will cause his throat to dry up a lot. His lip has stitches but it shouldn't take long for them to dissolve."

Dr. Hitsugaya looked at his clipboard again. "It seems that several of his ribs were broken at one point or another but were never treated and so they healed improperly. We had to break those and set them right. However, the majority of those ribs were already broken again and one of them has punctured his left lung. We were able to put a patch over it to seal the hole; with time, the patch will fuse with the rest of the lung tissue, but until then, he will have to use a breathing tube to make sure he gets the proper amount of air needed.

His left arm is also broken in two places, both just above the elbow, and will need to be in a cast for three to four weeks. His legs are both broken; his left leg is broken above the knee and his right leg is broken on both the Tibia and Fibula, or the shin and calf bones. His right leg will be in a cast for five to six weeks at least, since it is the worst break out of all of them, and his left leg will be in a cast for as long as his left arm." The doctor paused and gave them all a grave look. "I don't know how else to tell you this next part, so I'm just going to be blunt; there were signs for us to do a rape kit and when we did, it came back positive."

No one knew what to say. Abby looked like she didn't know whether she wanted to cry or ask questions. Palmer looked like he was in shock, his mouth opening and closing silently. Ducky seemed to be struggling with what to say. Both Gibbs and Ziva were clenching and unclenching their fists, as though imagining the men who had hurt Tim being strangled that way. It was Tony who asked the first question.

"You mean they… raped him?" Tony asked, hoping he had misunderstood. He was disappointed, however, when the doctor nodded his head. Tony couldn't imagine Tim, his Probie, ever being able to go through that. There was no way Tim would be able stand that. But thinking back, it now made perfect sense as to why he acted so terrified these past few days. Tim **had** gone through it. He had experienced something so cruel and painful, Tony was surprised Tim hadn't gone into a state of depression or something. Tony wasn't sure he himself would be able to go through something like that and still be able to work. He definitely had to hand it to Tim; never again would he tell Tim he was weak or wimpy.

"That's not the worst of it." the doctor said, breaking Tony out of his thoughts. "Apparently he was raped repeatedly and with random blunt objects. We found traces of chipped metal and gravel inside him as well as a punctured colin and internal bleeding. Not only that, but we have reason to believe he was sexually tortured. We found burn marks along his inner thighs, especially along the area where the inner thigh meets the groin. He also had what looked to be barbed wire wrapped around his genitals, along with other excruciatingly painful things, some of it digging into his skin." Abby couldn't take anymore and sat down heavily in one of the chairs, sobbing. Ducky sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to soothe her.

"All of this will heal, but it's the mental wounds that I'm worried about. I've had a couple other rape victims who have all been emotionally and mentally scarred and one of them ended up in a psychiatric ward because she tried to commit suicide."

"No, way." Tony said, shaking his head. "Tim would never commit suicide. He wouldn't even _think _about that. No way."

"Absolutely not." Ducky said, agreeing with Tony. "Young Timothy knows better than that. He's an extremely intelligent young fellow. There's no way he would consider suicide."

"Especially since he knows what we will do to him if he does." Ziva said fiercely. "Although, I wouldn't mind reminding him if I have to."

The doctor nodded. "And on top of all of this, he also has a very high fever. A normal temperature is about 98° but he is at 105.3°. According to the tests we did, we were able to determine that he had started out with a mild fever a few days ago but because he never did anything for it, it got worse and worse. We are currently moving him to a part of the ICU where we keep the feverish patients, so they don't get the other patients sick or make themselves worse."

"C-can we see him?" Abby asked hopefully through her sobs, her mascara smudged under her eyes.

Dr. Hitsugaya shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. He is highly contagious and can't have visitors until his fever breaks. It would be very dangerous for someone to go in and contaminate the air in the ward. You understand."

Abby, Ducky and Jimmy nodded their heads. Gibbs gave a single curt nod and Ziva stared at the floor, eyes narrowed. Tony looked past the doctor, staring at the double doors, as if hoping he could see Tim through them if he stared hard enough. To be honest, he wasn't sure he wanted to see him. The way the doctor described all of his injuries had Tony imagining the worst for Tim, seeing him torn up and bleeding; broken. That's how he was. No matter how hard he tried, all Tony could see was Tim, lying on the hospital bed, wires and tubes sticking out of him like some kind of science experiment scene in a sci-fi movie, bloody bandages and sheets pooled around him, his body torn and bruised; broken. He knew his mind was blowing it out of proportion, imagining the worst, since it couldn't actually see Tim, but he couldn't help the painful thuds that started beating at the inside of his chest.

"Tony?" Gibbs asked softly.

Tony snapped his eyes away from the doors and looked up at him. He didn't like the way Gibbs looked; he was worried, Tony could see it in his eyes, and that was not normal. Gibbs never let his emotions get away from him; never let his agents know just how upset he was by something, except for the occasion where he would become obsessed and enraged with finding a criminal they couldn't catch. But this wasn't like that. He looked worried. This was getting to everybody.

"Tony." Gibbs said again, this time a bit louder and stronger. "You alright; you keep spacing."

Tony blinked, mentally shaking his head clear. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking."

"Well, snap out of it; it's time to go. Everyone else is gone." Gibbs gestured to the now empty waiting room.

Tony looked around; he was right. Everyone had gone, including the doctor. When had he left? "Oh, sorry boss. Guess I got a bit distracted." Quickly, Tony tried, and failed, to turn his wheelchair around, his mind to distracted with the atrocious images to understand why his wheelchair wasn't moving. Sighing, Gibbs smacked Tony on the back of the head before leaning down and unlocking the wheels of the chair and wheeling Tony around and down the hall to the exit. "Thanks, Boss."

"Mhm." Gibbs mumbled.

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**A/N: Yay! I was finally able to update another chapter! *doing a little victory dance* If you read my earlier post with the explanations as to why I'm having so much trouble updating these chapters, I just want to say thanks for reading and understanding. If not, then I will just say that I am having difficulties with my real life as well as with my postings but rest assured that I will not, repeat: WILL NOT, drop this until I am completely done, no matter how long it takes to get these chapters done. DETERMINATION! So please bear with me.**

**The next chapter won't be up for some time, possibly two or three weeks, maybe four, but it will be updated. It will consist of Gibbs and team investigating Tim's case, pulling out all the stops and at the same time, visiting Tim in the hospital. Tobias is going to make an appearance! I understand if you are getting tired of waiting for these chapters, but it's not entirely my fault. If you are a writer, you know that it is excruciatingly hard to come up with good enough material to be considered a chapter. Even if you have a great scene in mind but no idea how to connect it to the story or whatever. Or you just have absolutely no idea what to write next. I believe these are all symptoms of an annoying disease called Writer's Block. Curse you, W.B.!**

**Anyways, thanks for sticking with me and all that. Please review and let me know what you think or if I'm wasting my time updating. Bye!**


	9. Finding a Lead

**A/N: hello everyone. Sorry for the long update. I have been so busy lately and had such a writer's block. I kept coming to this and writing a bit, then stopping, then coming back to it a day later or something and end up adding a bit more or editing what I had already written. But as an apology, I will post two, I repeat TWO chapters just for you. So here we go.**

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**Chapter 9: Finding a Lead**

The next day found Tony, Ziva and Gibbs working furiously at their desks, Tony's wheelchair taking place of his desk chair. He had had to beg Gibbs for quite a while to let him continue with the investigation, as Gibbs had wanted him to stay home while he healed. Tony flat out refused, telling him that even if Gibbs forced him to stay home, it wouldn't stop him from going behind Gibbs' back and working on his own anyways. So in the end, Gibbs agreed to let Tony work, as long as he agreed to stay behind his desk until the next day, when Dr. Hitsugaya gave him the all clear and he could get rid of the wheelchair.

Gibbs glanced up for the third time that morning, glancing at Ziva typing away at her keyboard, then at Tony rapidly scanning his computer screen, and then finally at Tim's empty desk. He had failed him. He felt that he had failed Tim, who had gone to him for help, had depended on him to protect him, to keep him safe. He trusted Gibbs to protect him and now where was he? He was in the hospital, fighting for his life, fighting against a fever that could possibly kill him, against wounds that almost did kill him, not to mention the emotional scars that he is going to be living with for the rest of his life.

The wounds Tim suffered, both physically and mentally, were beyond anything any of them could imagine. He knew they would eat at Tim for a long while, especially since he had tried so hard to keep a specific wound from the rest of them, and Gibbs knew that if Tim found out that the doctor told them the truth, he would no doubt be mortified beyond belief. They had to do something to let him know it would be okay, that he could talk to them whenever he wanted, whenever he was ready and they would listen. But for now they just had to focus on finding the bastards who had done this in the first place, and taking them down.

Sighing, Gibbs looked back down at the files on his desk, all of the evidence reports, all of the photos of the crime scenes, including Tim's apartment, scanning through them as thoroughly as he could, trying to find anything he could use to find these guys. So wrapped up in his scanning that he was that he didn't notice a man walk out of the elevator and across the room towards him until he was directly in front of his desk.

"Fornell." Gibbs said when he glanced up.

The man named Fornell nodded his head in greeting to Gibbs and stuck his hand into his coat. "I'm afraid I have bad news on your boy, Gibbs."

Tony and Ziva glanced up at him suspiciously. Gibbs's eyes narrowed as Fornell pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. Gibbs took it and flipped up the tap and yanked out the letter. Silently he read it before clenching his fist and slamming it down on the desk.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded, glaring up at Fornell.

"Just as it looks." Fornell answered grimly. "Whoever is after your boy has decided to involve us too. They sent me that letter this morning, paying a little kid to deliver it to us. They're saying that your boy wasn't supposed to live, that they had beaten him nearly to death in the hopes that he would be dead before he was found, and that they hadn't expected him to have the strength to crawl all the way back up to his apartment –"

"Hold on." Tony interrupted, a frown on his face. "How did they know where we found him? How did they know he made it back to his apartment? No one was given that kind of information."

Fornell shrugged. "I don't know but this was also with the envelope." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a baggie with a name tag in it. He handed it to Gibbs, who read it out loud. "T. Malloy."

"Malloy?!" Tony exclaimed in shock. "How's that possible? I took that from one of the dead guys who had been pretending to be a cop. I gave it back to metro, boss, you saw me."

"Yeah, Tony, I did." Gibbs said darkly.

Tony swore when he realized what Gibbs was getting at. That man, the officer who had vowed to do whatever he could to help them, the one who had seemed so caring, so sympathetic. He was one of them, the entire time, he was one of them and no one even noticed. He knew all about them, knew that Tim had made it all the way to his apartment, knew that he was alive, and knew that he was currently in the hospital. Suddenly his head shot up. "McGee."

"He's fine." Fornell assured. "I've got two of my best men stationed outside his room and two more guarding the entrance to his ward. No one is allowed into his room except his doctor and his nurse. And the two men outside the ward are to keep an eye out for any suspicious 'patients' until every single one of these guys are found. And since I am now working with you guys, I think it would be fair if someone filled me in on the whole story."

Gibbs glared at him for a moment before giving him a rough explanation of the situation, giving him only the necessary information needed for the case. When he had finished, Fornell nodded. "So these guys cornered him, beat him, then followed him for the next few days as a game, to see how long he would go before he cracked and told someone. And once he did, they went after him, intent on finishing the job, except that he survived the second time, which wasn't part of the plan. So when the police were called, one of them posed as an officer, snuck into the crime scene where he was, and found out that he was indeed still alive before sending me the letter this morning. Is that about right? So what do we do to find them?"

"Just a moment." Ziva said. "Tony said that two of them had attacked him that same night, as a diversion to get McGee alone, yes?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, and I killed them both."

"And McGee said there were eight of them." Ziva continued. "If there were eight of them, and Tony killed two, that would leave six left to find. And Tony and Gibbs know what the man who posed as a cop looks like. We can easily sketch him and that will help us find him. Perhaps we could look at the two dead men and, using their personal information, find any people that they associated with, as well as the fake police man, and bring them in for questioning."

"That's not a bad idea." Gibbs said, getting to his feet. "Tony, Ziva, start searching and bring up their files. Search for anything that would be considered useful and let me know when you've found anyone. Tobias, you're with me."

Fornell looked like he wanted to argue about being commanded like one Gibbs' agents, but bit his tongue and followed him to one of the elevators that would, if he guessed correctly, lead them down to autopsy or the forensics lab.

* * *

"Abby." Gibbs called out in the silent and deserted lab. "Abby!"

Abby came out of her office, clutching her stuffed, farting hippo, Burt. Her eyes were smudged with mascara and her face blotchy. "Hey Gibbs." She greeted quietly.

Gibbs walked up to her and placed his arms around her comfortingly. "He's going to be fine." He assured her. "Tim is stronger than he looks. He's made it this far. If I didn't think he was strong enough, I wouldn't have asked for his transfer to my team."

"I know." Abby sobbed into his front, trying to get control of her emotions. "But the doctor said he was already sick for a while. I was with him the other day. Why didn't I see? Why didn't I notice? And when I saw the bruise; I should have said something but I was too shocked. If I had noticed, if I had said something sooner, then maybe…"

"No, Abby. This isn't your fault anymore than it is Tony's or Tim's or Ziva's." Gibbs said. "It's those bastards who put him through this in the first place. Which is why I need you to pull yourself together and help us find them."

"You're right, Gibbs." Abby said, pulling away and wiping her eyes on the sleeves of her lab coat. "Timmy needs me. I have to do **something** useful to help him. So what can I do for you?"

Gibbs nodded in approval before continuing. "I need you to find me a print on these." Fornell handed him the baggie with the name tag in it. He handed it, along with the letter and envelope, to Abby. "They were given to Fornell this morning by a child who said he was paid to deliver it. Find any prints you can, any DNA, whatever you can find. We need an idea who these guys are and how to find them."

Abby took the items and placed them on the desk next to her computer. "You got it." She said.

Gibbs nodded and headed back out the door, Fornell behind him. "Gibbs." Abby called. Gibbs turned around to face her. "It's not your fault either." She said. Gibbs nodded silently and exited the lab.

* * *

"I got him." Tony called to Ziva from up the stairs. Quickly he wheeled his chair to the elevator and emerged moments later, rolling out of the elevator and up to Ziva's desk. "I just finished up with the sketch artist. This is the guy who was with Gibbs and me in McGee's apartment. The one who was pretending to be a cop."

"Who is he?" Ziva asked.

"I don't know yet. I'm going to scan it right now." Tony wheeled up to his desk and began scanning the picture. "I think I'm starting to get used to this chair." He said as he waited. "It makes my arms tired and I bump into things occasionally but at least I get to sit down more often. It just sucks that I can't go with you guys to catch these guys when… oh, I got something."

Ziva stood up and walked to stand behind him. "Aaron Stolson, age 35." She read. "High school dropout at age 17. Don't the schools here go to age 18?"

"Usually." Tony answered as he continued to scan the screen. "It's more of a grade. Ninth grade, tenth grade, eleventh and twelfth. Most twelfth graders are 17 or 18, depending on how late or early they started school and if they got held back or not. It says here that his mother is deceased and his father is an ex marine. Wow, his dad got a dishonorable discharge for beating and molesting his kid after his wife died by suicide and is now doing time in prison. No wonder the guy's so messed up. But what's his deal with cops? Marines aren't exactly cops are they?"

"No, but there is a link to a news article about it. Go to it." Ziva said, pointing to the screen. Tony clicked on the link and they silently read it. After a few moments, Ziva spoke. "So his mother dies in the bathtub by slicing her wrists and the police drop the case. A year later, the dad abuses his son and authorities are called. Upon further investigation, the police find that the mother hadn't committed suicide, but had been murdered by her husband and made to look like suicide. The boy had been claiming to his neighbors that his father was abusing his mother but no one believed him. That would explain why he hates cops; cops ignored him when he told them his mother was being abused. They also dropped the case when his mother was found in the bathtub, dusting it off as suicide."

"Brushing it off." Tony corrected. "I bet the way he sees it is that if the cops had listened to him in the first place, his mom would still be alive, and since his dad was a marine and he killed his wife, that makes him look bad too. That's why he says he hates all cops."

"But it doesn't justify the killing of innocent people." Ziva said. "He is using everything that his father did to him and his mother on McGee. He did nothing except be a cop and this is what he gets."

"And now he's not the only one on their list." Tony reminded her. "We're cops too, and we interfered with their plans. That makes us more of targets than before."

"And you were already targeted once." Ziva added. "I say let them come. If they try anything with me, I will rip their heads off and shove them so far up their-"

"Okay, anyways." Tony hastily interrupted. "I get what you're saying but we need to find them first."

Ziva nodded. "Yes, starting with this Aaron Stolson guy. Are you going to call Gibbs or shall I?"

* * *

Gibbs and Fornell headed down the hall from autopsy when Gibbs' phone range. "Gibbs." He answered.

"Boss, we found the guy who was with us in McGee's apartment." Came Tony's voice. "His name is Aaron Stolson. This guy's pretty messed up, Boss. He's the son of an ex marine who was arrested for beating and murdering his wife and beating and molesting his seventeen year old son a year later. That was eighteen years ago, but apparently he still holds a grudge because when he first told the police that his mother was being abused by his father, no one believed him and she died. And then the issue with him and his father, being a marine and all, has given him an anti-cop thing. After his father was arrested, he was sent to live with his aunt until he turned eighteen but his aunt was found dead months later. And you won't believe how she died."

"Raped and beaten." Gibbs guessed, entering the elevator and pushing for the main floor.

"Yeah. Most of her bones were broken from the beating and Stolson was no where to be found. He's been missing ever since."

"Until now." Gibbs growled. "I take it there is no address."

"No, no one knows where he lives. But the guys I killed do. I'm sending their addresses to you now."

"Good work, Dinozzo." Gibbs said before snapping off the phone. He turned to Fornell. "You get all of that, Tobias?"

Fornell nodded. "Yep. Shall we?" he said and the two of them stepped out of the elevator and headed out of the building and into the parking lot.

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**A/N: So what did you think? I know it went kind of slow but it will pick up. And like I said, there will be two chapter posts so don't worry.**

**Now, before I forget, I have an announcement. I have finished one of my stories that I have been working on since I first started here at about a year ago and have found that it was excruciatingly difficult keeping up with it all and pleasing all of you faithful yet impatient readers. Now that it is finished, I am down to just this story and my other one called Dolly Hiei, which is a fic about an anime called Yu Yu Hakusho. I have also been writing that one since I first started and it is still going really good. I just haven't had time to update it or this one because of time and the dreaded writer's block. So, I have decided to write one chapter for this one, except right now it will be two. Then I will write one chapter for the other one. Then one chapter for this one, and so on and so on. So after these chapters, you will have to wait a while until I finish with Dolly Hiei's chapter before I continue with the next one of this. And I ask that you PLEASE be patient and bear with me. This is almost done.**

**Okay so now I will ask that you review and let me know how I did with this. Or if you want, you can skip and review both chapters in the next one. Thanks! ~MoonGCyn**


	10. Searching for Clues

**A/N: Hey all. Well, here's chapter ten right after chapter nine, just like I promised. You're welcome!**

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**Chapter Ten: Searching for Clues**

Gibbs and Fornell emerged from their car and walked up the driveway to the first house they were to go to. After scanning the house, they walked up to the door and knocked. When no one answered, Gibbs knocked again, louder than the first time. Still no answer. Gibbs tried the doorknob to find it locked. As Gibbs reached into his pocket to pull out his lock picks, there was suddenly a loud scream heard from inside.

Quickly, Gibbs and Fornell drew their guns and Gibbs kicked open the door. "NCIS!" he called.

"FBI!" Fornell shouted. Both men searched the house as another scream came from the bedroom. After deeming the other rooms as clear, they headed into the bedroom where the screaming was coming from. Guns poised and ready, they burst into the room to find it empty. The screaming was coming from a TV on the dresser across from the bed. Fornell approached the TV, intent on turning it off when the scene caught his attention. "Gibbs."

Gibbs came up beside him and stared at the TV. The scene was in an alley, a woman lying on the ground, screaming as she was being beaten by a group of men, all of which were wearing dark hooded sweaters and baggy jeans. As the scene played out, one man grabbed her and turned her onto her back, another man positioning himself between her legs. Gibbs reached out and turned off the TV, pushing the eject button as he did. A tape emerged from the VCR and Gibbs pulled it out and looked at the title. "Officer Malloy." He muttered.

"They video taped it." Fornell said. He started searching the room. "Do you think they video taped all of them?"

"I don't know." Gibbs said. He hoped not. Finding out that he had been video taped would devastate Tim, that, Gibbs knew for a fact.

"Who are you?"

Gibbs and Fornell turned to see a young boy around the age of six standing in the doorway, wearing pajamas and looking like he had just woken up. Gibbs approached him and knelt in front of him. "My name is Agent Gibbs. That is my friend Agent Fornell. We're police officers." He showed the boy his badge. "What's your name?"

"Josh." The boy said, eyeing the badge. "Can I hold that?"

Gibbs nodded and handed it to him. "Just for a little while. Is anyone else here?"

The boy shook his head, his eyes never leaving the badge. "No, I'm here by myself. My cousin was supposed to watch me because I'm sick and didn't go to school today but he left. He said he was going to visit his friend Aaron and I wasn't allowed to come. He said not to tell anyone he left me alone."

"Is that so?" Gibbs asked, giving Fornell a look. "And do you know where Aaron lives?"

The boy shook his head again. "No, they never tell me anything. But he does come here when my mom and dad are at work. Peter isn't supposed to let anyone come over when my parents aren't here. But he doesn't listen. He's a bad guy."

"A bad guy?" Gibbs asked. "Why is that?"

The boy looked up at him. "I want to be a police man too. But Peter says that police men are bad people. He said that he will hurt me if I become a police man. And he talks about killing them all the time. He made me promise not to tell anyone that because then he'll kill me too. I don't like him; he scares me."

"And when was the last time you saw Peter?" Gibbs asked.

"Yesterday." Josh said. "He left last night after my bedtime."

"And when is your bedtime?" Gibbs asked.

"At eight o'clock. Mom said when I get older, I can stay up longer." Josh said.

"Where are your parents now?" Gibbs asked.

Josh looked back down at the badge. "They went away somewhere. On a trip because mom said they didn't have a money moon when they got married and then they worked a lot so they're having one now." He looked up at Gibbs. "What's a money moon? Do they go to the moon and get money? Why couldn't I go? I could help."

Gibbs shrugged as Fornell chuckled. "You should ask your parents that question." He straightened up and glanced at Fornell. "Why don't you wait right here while my friend and I talk?"

"Can I still hold your badge?" he asked hopefully.

Gibbs chuckled and nodded. "Sure." He sauntered across the room to Fornell. "What do you think?"

Fornell looked down at the notes he had taken of Gibbs' conversation with the boy. "Well, this kid has been here alone since eight o'clock last night and who knows when his parents will be back. He seems to know a lot of information about this Peter character and a bit on Stolson. We should probably bring him back with us for a bit more questioning. And someone is going to have to call his parents and let them know that their nephew is dead and he and his friends were involved in a string of murders. They might know more about this than the kid."

Gibbs nodded. "We'll hold him until his parents get back and question him with them present."

"What about the other house?" Fornell asked.

Gibbs pulled out his phone and dialed. "Ziva." He said into it. "I need you to meet Fornell in front of Peter Harrison's house." Then he snapped the phone shut. "I'll take the kid back to headquarters. You and Ziva scout out Richard Gomez's house and see what you can find out."

Fornell nodded. "I'll call when I find anything."

Gibbs nodded and headed back to the kid. "Josh," he said, crouching down in front of him again. "How would you like to go with me to my work?"

Josh looked up at him excitedly. "I can?"

"Absolutely. And while we're there, you can call your parents and tell them that you got to see the inside of a policeman's work place." Gibbs said.

"Yeah!" Josh exclaimed. "I'll go change." He handed the badge back to Gibbs and ran out of the room.

"You just became the kid's hero." Fornell joked.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and continued to search the room for anything else they could use to find Aaron Stolson. After ten minutes, the boy came back into the room ready to go. "You ready?" Gibbs asked unnecessarily.

"Yep!" the boy said. Gibbs and Fornell escorted the boy out of the house as Ziva pulled up.

"Gibbs." Fornell said. "What about the phone?" he pointed to the house phone sitting on an end table next to the front door.

Gibbs turned to the boy. "Does Peter ever get phone calls?"

Josh nodded. "Yep, all the time. Mom said she might as well give him his own phone because he uses our all the time." Gibbs nodded to Fornell, who unhooked the phone and brought it out with them. "Where are you taking our phone?"

"We need to check who Peter has been talking to." Gibbs explained as Ziva approached them. "It's police stuff you'll learn when you get older."

"Gibbs." Ziva greeted with a nod. She nodded to Fornell and glanced at the boy.

"I'm taking him back to headquarters." Gibbs said. "Go with Fornell and scope out Richard Gomez's house while I'm gone."

"Hey, I know Richard." The boy said. The three adults looked down at him, making him feel uncomfortable. He glanced down at the ground.

Gibbs crouched down next to him. "So who is Richard?"

"He's one of Peter's friends." The boy said, keeping his eyes on the ground.

Gibbs lifted his head up. "What do you know about him? Is he a good guy or a bad guy?"

"He's a bad guy. He talks to Peter about killing the police men too. He's friends with Aaron too."

Gibbs nodded. "Okay, we'll talk about this more when we get to my work." He stood up and nodded to Ziva and Fornell. "I'll meet you back at headquarters."

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Tony hung up the phone as Gibbs exited the elevator. "Boss, I just finished getting the names and addresses of the last six…" he trailed off as he saw the little boy behind Gibbs. "Uh, boss, did you know you're being tailed by a little person?"

"Yep." Gibbs said as he headed to his desk, the little boy right behind him.

"Oh." Tony said. Then he recovered and turned to his printer and grabbed the sheets that had come out. "Okay, well I got the names and stuff of the other guys and printed them out." He wheeled his chair out from behind his desk and up to Gibbs'.

"How come you're in one of those chairs?" the boy asked him.

"I got shot." Tony told him.

The boy's eyes widened. "You did? Did it hurt? Did you bleed? Can you still use your legs? Where did you get shot? How come you didn't die? I thought people die when they get shot. Who shot you?"

"Um…" Tony looked at his boss, who looked at him with an amused smile on his face. "Yeah, it hurt and I did bleed. I got shot in the leg and in my arm. And yes I can still use them. And most times you can die, but I was lucky. And bad guys shot me."

"Whoa, cool!"

Tony grinned at the spark in the kids eyes. "So what are you here for?"

"Mr. Gibbs brought me here. He wants to talk to me about Peter and Richard and Aaron." The boy said.

Tony looked up at Gibbs. "He's Peter's cousin." Gibbs explained. "Peter left him alone last night around eight o'clock and hasn't been back since. His parents are out of town for a while and we need to call them before we ask Josh anymore questions. Fornell is with Ziva and the two of them are on their way to scope out Richard's house." He picked up his bag and pulled out the phone, handing it to Tony. "Take that to Abby."

After Tony left, Gibbs looked up the boy's parents and was able to get the number of the hotel they were staying at in Florida. After dialing and speaking to the concierge, he spoke to the parents, explaining the situation to them before handing the phone to Josh. As Josh spoke to his parents on his desk phone, Gibbs used his cell phone to call the hospital for an update on Tim's condition.

"I'm afraid he's still unconscious, Agent Gibbs." Dr. Hitsugaya said. "His fever hasn't broken yet. We've tried everything, but we just can't get it down. Only time will tell."

"Alright, thanks." Gibbs said. He hung up the phone and turned to Josh as he was finishing up talking to his parents. After Gibbs finished speaking to the boy's parents, he hung up the phone and stood up. "You're parents said they were going to be here by tomorrow."

"So, where am I going to go until they get back? I'm not supposed to be home by myself." He said.

"You can stay with me until they get back." Gibbs offered.

"Yeah!" Josh said.

* * *

Fornell and Ziva leaped out of the car, guns drawn, as a second crash rang out in the house. They ran up the driveway and Fornell counted to three on his fingers to Ziva before kicking the door open. He and Ziva burst through the door and into the house, following the crashing noises coming from a back room.

"FBI!" shouted Fornell.

"NCIS!" shouted Ziva.

"Come out, now!" Fornell shouted to the room.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then a man emerged from the room, hands held high. "Don't shoot." He said. "I'm unarmed."

Neither of them lowered their weapons. "Who are you?" Fornell demanded.

Ziva went up behind the man and pushed him up against the wall, searching him for any concealed weapons. "He's clean." She said.

"My name is Eric. Eric Sanders." The man said.

"What are you doing here, Eric Sanders?" Fornell asked.

"One of my friends owes my money. He's been dodging me for months now." The man explained. "I came to demand my money but he's never home so I came in to see if I could find it."

"Breaking and entering is a crime." Ziva said, tapping his shoulder with the barrel of her gun.

"I know. But I wasn't going to take anything except my money. I like his parents; I wouldn't take anything from them." He shrugged. "I wasn't even planning on breaking any of his stuff until I found a video of my girlfriend's uncle in his room. He killed him. Him and his friends raped and killed him. That's sick."

"I take it you're not part of them." Fornell said.

The guy shook his head. "No way. Those guys are crazy. He wasn't so bad until he started hanging with that psycho, Aaron. The guy's twisted. Did you know there's a rumor going around that he's wanted by the cops? They say he raped and killed his aunt. The guy's sick. I tried to tell Richie to stay away from him but he wouldn't listen."

"We're going to need to take you in for questioning." Ziva said. "You seem to know quite a bit of information that we need."

"If I go willingly, can you not tell his parents that I was here? It's not them I'm worried about; it's the possibility of them telling Richard." Eric shook his head. "If he finds out that I broke into his house to get my money back, he'd kill me for sure. Either him or one of his friends. And I don't want to be one of their victims on the tapes."

"What tapes?" Fornell asked.

"The tapes they make of the killings they do. It's one thing to kill people, it's another thing entirely too video tape it." Eric shuddered. "I don't want to be one of them."

"You won't be." Ziva said. "He's dead."

Eric's head snapped around to her, his eyes widened in shock. "Who's dead? Not Richie? No way, he can't be. Yeah, he's gone off the deep end a bit, but he doesn't deserve to die."

"He and his friend Peter Harrison tried to kill a federal agent last night." Fornell said.

"**Two** federal agents." Ziva corrected. "And one of them is currently in the hospital, fighting for his life."

"I swear I didn't know." Eric said. "I don't go anywhere near Richie when he's with Aaron."

"Well, we're going to have to take you back with us for questioning." Ziva repeated.

"Sure." Eric said. He shook his head sadly as Ziva lead him out of the house and Fornell headed into the room Eric had been in. "It sucks that Richie is dead, but I guess I can't be too surprised. I knew something bad would happen to him if he continued to hang with that lunatic, Aaron. I tried to warn him that that guy was bad news."

"You can't convince the stubborn." Ziva said. "If he didn't want to listen, then there was nothing you could have done." Fornell emerged from the house, carrying a laptop, a VCR tape and the house phone. "Ready?" she asked as they got in the car.

"Yeah, let's go." Said Fornell.

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**A/N: So what did you think? Enough details for you? This one was nice and long, so hope you guys had your fill. I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I finish the next chapter for my other story. Please be patient. And don't forget to review.**


	11. Questions, Pictures, and a Call

**A/N: Yeah, another chapter up and ready for reading! Sorry for the long wait. I've been in a big stand still with how to get the details from Eric onto the page the right way without sounding confusing. But guess what; I'm almost finished with both of my stories! How awesome is that? Well, I guess it would be kind of sad that these are coming to an end but at least it was a good ride, right? After I finish with both this story and my other one, however, I'm planning on taking a well deserved break. I'll continue coming onto this site and reading your stories and stuff, but I won't be writing for a few weeks. Give my brain some breathing time. Besides, final exams are coming up soon. So in the mean time, here's chapter eleven. Enjoy! (oh, and for the record: I have no idea how to describe a six year old child's drawings)**

**For old time's sake, I will disclaim instead of telling you lazy bums to go to the first chapter. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS OR ITS CHARACTERS OR ANYTHING ELSE THAT IS OBVIOUSLY NOT OWNED BY ME! Happy?**

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**Chapter Eleven: Questions, Pictures, and a Call**

Ziva sat at the edge of a long rectangular table with Eric Sanders sitting across from her. Fornell stood leaning against the wall behind her, facing Eric, with his arms crossed over his chest. Ziva placed her note pad on the table in front of her and looked at Eric expectantly. "Well?" she asked.

"Where should I start?" Eric asked mournfully.

"How about at the beginning?" Fornell suggested.

Eric nodded. He looked down at the table and took a deep breath before starting. "I met Richie years ago, back when we were in our junior year in high school. I was the new kid and he befriended me. He was a cool guy back then. We hung out all the time, picking up girls at the mall, ditching class to play games in his garage while his parents were away, sneaking out after curfew to go to parties. We got into so much trouble in high school. We were always getting detentions for the stupidest things. We didn't care about getting caught; that was part of the fun. We were practically inseparable.

"After our freshman year in college, everything changed. He met some guys after school. I wasn't there, I had to stay after school to talk to my professor. I told him to go on home and that I'd meet him there. He met some guys on his way to our dorm who introduced him to Aaron. Aaron was just as crazy then as he is now. He talked to Richie, brainwashed him into thinking cops were the bad guys, that they were the enemies that were trying to rule the world or something. At first Richie didn't believe him. After I got to our dorm, he told me about them and what they said. He said that Aaron and his friends sounded like some kind of cult trying to recruit him or something. But the next day, Aaron and his friends were standing outside our dorm, waiting for us. They tried to convince us that they were telling the truth and that cops of all kinds were evil and that the whole world of cops was just some kind of conspiracy or something. We didn't listen and told them to leave us alone or else we'd call the cops they love so much. They weren't students, so the campus police wouldn't really do much.

Sophomore year went by without incident after that. They left us alone. During our junior year in college, Aaron showed up again. He tried to convince us again that cops were bad. He told us stories of the things cops do behind our backs and stuff. I guess I was always the voice of reason between the two of us. I didn't listen to a thing Aaron said but Richie seemed like he was giving in. I tried to convince him that Aaron was full of it. I could see that he was struggling with who to believe. When we were in our dorm, I would keep trying to convince him not to listen to Aaron and at first he was okay. But then Aaron had some of his friends corner us individually. Richie was slipping in class and so our professor asked him to stay after to talk. He told me he would catch up with me later so I headed out."

Eric took a deep breath and glanced back at Ziva, then at Fornell, and then back at the table. "Aaron was waiting for me behind our dorm. He and his friends cornered me and, at first, they tried to convince me again of their beliefs of cops but I refused and Aaron got mad. He said that I may not accept the truth but I shouldn't be trying to force my friend to be blinded from it, too. He said that if I was really Richie's friend, I would leave him alone and let him believe what he wants. I told Aaron to go fuck himself and leave us alone. He got mad and he and his friends jumped me. I fought back as best I could with five to one but they got the best of me. Afterwards, I went back to my dorm room to wait for Richie. He didn't show. I ended up falling asleep waiting for him. When I woke up, he still hadn't shown up. I told myself that if he didn't show by our first class, then I would call the cops on Aaron just in case. But he showed up. Except he wouldn't talk to me. He ignored me all through class and as soon as class got out, he took off. I didn't blame him. I had a feeling Aaron had something to do with it.

After all of my classes ended, with Richie still ignoring me, I went searching for them. I found Richie heading towards our dorm and so I ran up to him and asked him what was up. He told me that he couldn't hang with me anymore because I was messing with his mind. Was he serious? If anyone was messing with his mind, it was Aaron. And I told him so but he said that Aaron told him I would say something like that and that I was getting in the way of him seeing the truth. I didn't want us to stop being friends, so I told him that I didn't care about what he believed in; he could believe in whatever he wanted, I didn't care. I just wanted us to stay friends. We were close growing up and did he really want to throw that away just because of some different views? So we stayed friends. Sort of. We hung out like normal, neither one of us mentioning Aaron or anything that had to do with him or his crew. When he wasn't hanging with me, Richie was with Aaron, doing who knew what."

Eric shook his head sadly. "Then things turned for the worse. We stopped hanging out almost completely. He started changing; he started getting a major attitude problem, first with me and then with his parents. He would act like he knew everything and he was so superior. He started acting more like Aaron everyday. I hardly saw him except when he was asking for money or needed some place to lay low. He said that since he 'saved me' from being friendless in high school, I owed him. He was such a dick. I knew he was doing things that were illegal. I didn't know what, but I knew. But I kept telling myself that it wasn't his fault, that Aaron was the one responsible for it all. But I knew I was kidding myself. Richie wasn't a kid anymore, which means he has to take responsibility for his own actions. I tried to convince him to break off from Aaron; tried to tell him that he was going to end up in trouble or worse because of him. He wouldn't listen.

"So I made the decision to break off ties with him instead. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. Like I said, Richie and I were like brothers. It was hard to think of breaking ties. But I couldn't deal with Aaron and his crap anymore. I knew I was already in trouble for helping Richie and not going to the police when I first suspected Richie of doing something illegal. I just didn't want to see him getting sent to prison or something." Suddenly Eric looked up at them with horror filled eyes. "Oh man. Do you think this is my fault? Do you think if I had tried harder, he wouldn't have gone this far? This is all my fault; I should have said something sooner." Eric put his face in his hands. "Richie, I'm so sorry."

"This is not your fault." Ziva said, reaching across the table to put her hand on his. "You did everything you could. You stood by your friend, even though you disagreed with his actions."

"There was nothing more you could have done for him." Fornell agreed. "He obviously didn't want to listen to you when you tried to convince him that Aaron was bad news. If you tried to tell him that he was going to die when he tried to kill an NCIS agent, I doubt he would have listened then either. I agree, you should have said something sooner, but you were protecting a friend. To be honest, I probably would have done the same."

Eric looked up at him. "You would have?"

Fornell nodded. "Now, is there anything else you can think of that would help us find Aaron? Do you know where he lives or where Richie went when he met with him? Who he hung out with? Anything at all?"

Eric thought about this. Finally he shook his head. "No, I can't. I know Richie hung out with Aaron wherever Aaron decided to go but he never mentioned anything to me. I guess he didn't want me following or something. And I've never seen him with anyone else, so I have no idea who they hang out with. I've never seen the faces of the others."

Ziva looked down at her notes she had taken during his story. "Did he ever come home with something? Like fast food, souvenirs of the victims, anything that would give a clue to where he had been?"

Eric shook his head. "No, he was very careful on not giving himself away." Then Eric paused and looked up, startled. "Actually, there was one thing. I saw him once while he was walking home from somewhere. I was kind of irritated with him at the time, so I didn't go up to him but I did notice that he had something on his shoes that looked a lot like moss. The only places with moss are the woods and some of the parks. They could be hiding there somewhere."

Ziva wrote that information down in her notes and glanced up again. "Was there anything that looked out of place on him that day? Any dirt on his clothes, rips, mud, anything that would indicate which park he went to or which part of these woods he was in?"

Eric shook his head. "No, I didn't. But I did see a couple leaves on one of his jackets when I was searching through his room. I don't think he does his laundry as often as he should, so you can try there."

"We will." Fornell assured. "You said he owed you money and that's why you were searching through his room when we found you. Does he usually owe you money?"

"Sometimes." Eric said. "He always has money but he has a bad control over his spending habits. Even in high school he would hit the stores as soon as money landed in his hands. He would spend it on stuff, I don't know what, and then he sees something else he wants that he doesn't have enough for and so he comes to me asking for more. I've been keeping track on how much he borrows and now I want to collect it all before it gets to large to get back. He owes me a hundred and twelve dollars right now. Or he did anyway."

"And why did you choose now to collect it?" Ziva asked.

"Because I just recently decided to break ties with him." Eric answered. "I almost forgot about it until I thought about changing the locks on the house and then I thought about how much it would cost and then I remembered about the money Richie owed me. And like I said, I went to his house to go get it and he wasn't home. Usually when I try to get it back from him, he says he either doesn't have it or not right now because he has something else to use it for. So I figured I would have a better chance of getting it back if I got it on my own."

"Did he have a job?" Fornell asked. "Or did he go to school or something?"

"No." Eric said. "After he met Aaron, he stopped going to school. He finished the semester he was in with me but after that he stopped. And he said he didn't need to work because Aaron would take care of all of them."

Ziva looked back down at her notes. "In the beginning, when we first found you in Richard's house, you said that he raped and killed your girlfriend's uncle. Who is her uncle? And who's your girlfriend?"

"Her name is Mariah. Please, are you going to tell her? She needs to know but I don't know if I should be the one to say it." Eric sighed desperately. "Please, can one of you tell her?"

"I will speak to her and her parents as soon as you tell me who her uncle is." Ziva said.

"Her uncle's full name is Naval Lieutenant Heath Leme. He had been in the Navy for ten years and had gotten promoted to Lieutenant pretty early. He was a really decent guy outside of the Navy as well and he loved his niece. I met him a few times when I first started dating Mariah. After the thousands of questions he asked me, he finally gave me the okay to date her, even though her parents had already said okay. She valued his opinion and wanted to make sure she got his approval." Eric said.

"Then this will be difficult on her." Ziva said. "You should be there when I give her and her family the news."

"If you say Aaron, she's going to know that Richie was involved. She's known about him being mixed up with Aaron and his craziness. She was the one who helped me convince myself to break ties with him." Eric said.

"Alright." Ziva said, jotting down the rest of her notes. "I think that's enough for now. I don't think I have to advise you not to leave the state or country until this case is solved."

Eric shook his head. "No, I won't go anywhere. But what are you going to say to his parents?"

Ziva and Fornell gave him a hard look."The truth." They said in unison.

* * *

Gibbs sat in his desk chair, typing away at his computer while Josh sat in a second chair positioned between his and Ziva's desks, eating a sandwich from a café down the street. Occasionally he would look over to Gibbs, then over to Tony, who was glaring at his computer screen, and finally back at his sandwich. When he finished, he reached down and pulled up his little back pack and pulled out a thick book with blank grey paper and a box of 64 crayons. Then he began to draw.

After about fifteen minutes of typing, Gibbs glanced up and around the office again. He glanced at Tim's still empty desk, then at Ziva's empty desk, and then over to Tony, who looked about ready to murder his computer, and finally his gaze drifted over to Josh. His gaze drifted briefly over the sketchbook and Gibbs was about to turn back to his own computer when the drawing caught his eye.

Standing up, Gibbs walked over and stood next to Josh. Kneeling down, Gibbs casually asked. "What are you drawing?"

Josh shrugged. "A picture." He answered, not looking up from his drawing. Gibbs glanced down at the picture. Eight black blobs representing bodies and eight pairs of blue blobs for legs stood in the middle of the page, surrounded by long thick brown blobs with green blobs on top. One of the black bodied blobs was a lot larger than the others and stood over a long, purple horizontal blob with a peach colored head, peach colored legs and light brown hair.

"Can you explain to me what this picture is about?" Gibbs asked as he watched Josh color red splotches along the peach colored arms and legs and face of the purple blob.

Josh stopped his coloring to point at each of the black blobs. "This one is Jason, and this one is Victor, this one is Blake, this one is Gary, this is Cory, this one is Peter, this one is Richard, and this big one is Aaron. They're all in the woods behind that one park where all the big kids go."

"Were you supposed to be there?" Gibbs asked.

Josh shook his head. "No, but Peter wouldn't play with me because he said he had more important things to do. I wanted to see what was more important because he never plays with me."

"And what about this one?" Gibbs asked, pointing to the purple blob. Tony had glanced up when he heard Josh naming the blobs and had rolled his chair up beside Gibbs to peer at the picture.

Josh shrugged. "I don't know her name but she was with them. She was crying. She was trying to scream but Aaron had his hand over her mouth and then Peter hit her in the face and she fell down. And then they started kicking her and punching her. Daddy says boys are not supposed to hit girls, even when they are asking for it. And then she stopped moving. They stopped hitting her and then Aaron started taking off her clothes. You're not supposed to do that either."

"No, you're not." Gibbs agreed. "Josh, do you know the last names of these guys? And where they live?"

Josh nodded his head. "Uh huh. I know where they all live except Aaron. Aaron doesn't live anywhere. He goes wherever he wants."

Tony pointed to the purple blob. "How come she's purple? Was she wearing purple?"

Josh shook his head. "No, she was wearing clothes that had grey and black and green spots all over. And she had a hat with the same colors but they threw it away. But they had a purple sheet on her over her clothes."

Gibbs put his hand over the picture and waited for Josh to look up at him. "I need you to do something very important for me."

"Okay." Josh said.

"I need you to write down the names of everyone in this picture and where they live, okay?" Gibbs instructed.

"But I don't know how." Josh said. "I haven't learned that yet in school."

"Then tell Tony the names and addresses of the guys and he'll write them down for you." Gibbs said. He stood up and headed in the direction of the elevator.

"Where are you going?" Josh asked.

"I'll be right back. I need to go get my friend, Agent Fornell. Talk to Tony until I get back."

"Kay."

* * *

Gibbs headed down the hall to the conference room that Ziva and Fornell had gone to with Eric. As he approached the door, the two agents emerged with a distressed Eric. "I will take him home." Ziva offered.

"Not yet." Gibbs said. He faced Eric. "Do you know the names of everyone in their group?"

Eric shrugged. "I don't know. I've never seen their faces because they always wear hoods, so I don't know who is in it in the first place."

"Do you know anyone by the names of Jason, Blake, Cory, Gary, Peter, Richard, and Victor?" Gibbs asked.

Eric thought about this and then nodded. "I already know Richard and I know someone named Peter. And I've only ever known one person named Victor and someone else named Jason. But I don't know the others. Why? Are they the others that were involved?"

"Apparently." Gibbs alleged. "What do you know about Victor and Jason?"

Eric shrugged. "I don't know. The only Victor and Jason I know are from college a few years ago. I haven't seen either of them since."

"What were their names? Their full names?" Gibbs asked.

"Victor Hendricks and Jason Peing. They were in a few of mine and Richie's classes in college." Eric answered. "I don't know much about them except what everyone else in school knew. Victor was more of an outcast; he stayed to himself most of the time. Everyone thought he was a loner and kind of weird. He always seemed to be speaking to himself. He was pretty good in school though, so he was never chewed out by the professors or asked to stay after.

Jason was a bit different. He comes from a really uptight Chinese family. His father is an officer in the navy, Officer Lao Peing. We've seen him before at school. He chewed out Jason in front of the majority of school one morning because he was failing in one of his classes. Jason looked extremely pissed but he didn't say anything. He didn't talk to anyone either at school; he mostly stuck to himself as well."

"I was going to take him to his girlfriend's house." Ziva said. "His girlfriend is the niece of Officer Leme. I was going to tell the family that we know who is killing officers and that we are getting close to finding them." She gave Gibbs a look at her last few words.

Gibbs nodded meaningfully and stepped back to let them pass. "Don't go anywhere where we can't find you if we need to." Gibbs said as they passed. "And don't go anywhere alone. Aaron and his crew might decide to turn to you if they think that you might sell them out."

"I won't." Eric said. "I'll ask to stay a few nights with my girlfriend to keep her company and give her some support. This is going to be harder for her than anyone else."

Gibbs nodded and waited for them to round the corner before turning back to Fornell. "So, how did you find out the names of the other guys?" Fornell asked.

"The kid; he drew a picture of what he had seen in the woods a few days ago." Gibbs answered as he and Fornell headed back towards the elevator. "Apparently Peter met Aaron and his friends there and Josh followed. He saw them attacking a woman in an army uniform and drew what he saw today in the bull pen. He told us the first names of all eight guys and right now he's telling them to Tony to search."

They entered the elevator and Gibbs pushed the button he wanted. Fornell turned to Gibbs. "It appears that we're missing a body. We have a regular police officer, an ex-marine, a naval lieutenant, and now an army officer. the only ones missing are FBI and NCIS."

Gibbs and Fornell exited the elevator into the bull pen and approached Tony's desk. Josh was sitting in the chair he sat in earlier, except now it was positioned next to Tony's desk. "What have you got for me, Dinozzo?" Gibbs asked.

Tony handed Gibbs a few pages of printed paper. "I was able to find and print four of them, boss. I've been printing them as soon as I find them so that you can get started while I search for the others."

Gibbs glanced briefly at the pages before handing them to Fornell and nodding to Tony. "Good work, Tony. Let's go, Tobias." Gibbs started to head to the elevator when the phone on his desk rang. Gibbs paused, debating on whether or not to answer. Finally he turns and heads back to his desk and grabs the receiver. "Agent Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs." Said a serious voice on the other end. "I'm afraid I have grave news concerning your agent, Timothy McGee." Gibbs felt his insides go cold, felling as though the blood running through his veins had turned to ice. "We tried everything we could to save him but there was nothing more we could do. I'm sorry but… I'm afraid he's gone."

* * *

**A/N: Wait, what? Gone? No way! Yeah, I know. Just review.**


	12. A Turn of Events

**Chapter Twelve: A Turn of Events**

"_Agent Gibbs." Said a serious voice on the other end. "I'm afraid I have grave news concerning your agent, Timothy McGee." Gibbs felt his insides go cold, felling as though the blood running through his veins had turned to ice. "We tried everything we could to save him but there was nothing more we could do. I'm sorry but… I'm afraid he's gone."_

**

* * *

**

Gibbs fought to keep his breathing under control as his hand tightened on the receiver. Suddenly the voice chuckled coldly. "How did that feel, Agent Gibbs?" the voice asked. "How did it feel to hear that your agent is dead and it's all your fault?"

Gibbs felt his blood boil. "Who is this?" he demanded angrily, though somehow he knew he had heard that voice from somewhere.

"Why, I'm insulted, Agent Gibbs." The voice said, feigning hurt. "You don't recognize me? Here, allow me to clarify." The voice cleared his voice and began speaking in a slightly deeper voice. "_If you have any questions for us or need anything, please, don't hesitate to ask."_

Suddenly Gibbs knew where he had heard that voice and his hand clenched the receiver tightly as he hissed. "Aaron Stolson." Fornell strode over to Gibbs and Tony wheeled his chair up beside him. Josh glanced up at them with wide eyes.

"Oh, good. You do remember me." Aaron chuckled. "That's good. At least now you know the name of the one who killed your agent."

"My agent is not dead!" Gibbs snapped, glancing up at Fornell. Fornell nodded and turned from Gibbs, pulling a cellphone out of his pocket. "You stay away from him and all of my people. We know where you live, Aaron. We know all about you and your parents. How your father killed your mother and then turned on you."

"Shut up!" Aaron shouted. Gibbs ignored him and continued.

"Your father beat you, violated you, humiliated you. And he was a 'cop' as you like to call everyone. A big bad cop destroyed your world and there was nothing you could do." Gibbs taunted, trying to get Aaron to slip something they could use.

"I said shut up!" Aaron shouted again.

"You were a pathetic little snot-nosed kid that was too weak to defend your mother when she needed you." Gibbs growled, not caring how cold he sounded. This guy had gone too far when he threatened one of Gibbs' own people. He had placed Tim in the hospital, where he lay fighting for his life; he had temporarily crippled Tony, placing him in a wheelchair; and now here he was, once again threatening Tim and pretending he was dead. There was no way he was going to feel any sympathy for this creep.

Gibbs looked up as Fornell shut his phone, turned to Ziva's desk and picked up a sheet of printer paper. He quickly wrote on the sheet and turned it to Gibbs. 'He's fine. I just spoke to my men. No one has been in or out all day except the doctor. They watched the doctor through the window as he checked McGee.' Fornell wrote.

Gibbs nodded and turned his attention back to his seething caller. "You're a failure." Gibbs replied coldly. "You let your mother die."

"No, I didn't!" Aaron shouted.

"You failed to protect her. And now your anger is making you become the one person you hated the most." Gibbs continued. "You are becoming just like your dearly beloved father."

"I'm nothing like that bastard!" Aaron shouted. "He could rot in hell for all I care!"

"And guess what." Gibbs said, raising his voice over Aaron's. "We're going to take you down. We're going to make you pay for everyone you raped and murdered. Every life you took. Every life you destroyed. Every person you violated. Every attempted murder you tried. Every person you threatened. And when we find you, you can bet that we'll be showing the same amount of mercy that you showed to your victims. You better run, Aaron Stolson. Because we're coming for you. And we're coming fast."

Gibbs slammed the receiver down into its holster and looked down at Tony, who was looking at him with concern and confusion, and then looked over at Fornell. "Get your shot gun ready, Tobias. We're going hunting." Gibbs headed toward the elevators, Fornell right behind him. "Tony, you call Ziva. Tell her that I want her to go to the hospital and wait with Fornell's guys. Aaron's guys might try something again. And get me the rest of those names."

Tony rolled back to his desk, once again aggravated by the fact that he couldn't be out in the field with his teammates, helping them catch the creeps who did this to him and Tim and every other officer they've attacked. He quickly called Ziva and explained what had happened and that Gibbs wanted her to stay at the hospital with Tim until Gibbs got there.

"I understand." She responded. "And Tony." She added, sensing his distress.

"Yeah?"

"Do not worry." She assured him. "You have done more than your fair share to help. I will take over from here and make sure nothing befalls our friend. I will also speak with the doctor about your leg and the wheelchair. I know you want to help. The best you can do for now is to take over for McGee until he returns, **when** he returns." She added meaningfully.

"Yeah." Tony said before hanging up and returning to his task.

* * *

Gibbs and Fornell arrived at the apartment building that housed Victor Hendricks. They headed into the apartment building and up to the landlord's apartment. "Can I help you gentlemen?" The landlord asked when he opened the door, eyeing them hopefully.

"I would hope so." Fornell answered. He wasn't sure if Gibbs had calmed down enough to handle talking to pedestrians. "We're here about an apartment."

"Obviously." The landlord nodded. "Would you two like to see any near the top? Or perhaps a corner apartment; those are always popular for privacy. Not that I'm trying to get into your business or anything." He added hastily. "Not saying you need privacy for whatever you do with each other. It's up to you, really. You two can do whatever you want with each other as long as it's in an apartment. I do have other guests who are a bit squeamish about this sort of thing, you understand. What would your preference be?"

Fornell scowled as the landlord spoke, then scowled even more when he saw Gibbs' amused expression. "We're not here to rent." He answered tersely, glaring at Gibbs. "We're looking for the apartment of someone." Fornell reached into his coat and pulled out his badge, which he realized he should have done in the beginning so as to avoid this awkward situation.

The landlord glanced at the badge and his face fell. "Oh. Oh, all right. Which one? And do you have a warrant?"

"It's for a Victor Hendricks and no, we don't have a warrant." Gibbs said.

The landlord scowled. "Oh, well if it's for him, then I don't really care if you have a warrant or not. I'll take you to his apartment." He reached behind his door and pulled out a large silver key ring filled with brass keys. "Follow me."

They followed him down a hall to the elevators and stepped in with him. "Why are you so willing to let us search his apartment?" Fornell asked.

"That guy's been nothing but trouble since he's been here. Unfortunately he pays the rent every month, right on time; sometimes he's even early with it, so I don't really have anything to throw him out on." The landlord shrugged. "But he's always arrogant about it. Like he's trying to show everyone that he has enough money to pay for rent and whatever else he wants. He's arrogant about everything. You can see it in his eyes; he's always looking down on everyone."

They got off the elevator and headed down another hallway until they reached a door with a rusty number thirty two on the center of the door. The landlord clinked through his keys until he found the one he wanted and opened the door. He stopped short when he saw the inside of the apartment.

The room was trashed; old food was found scattered around on the floor, some already infested with insects. The furniture was shredded and scattered around along with the trash, stuffing and cloth thrown everywhere. It looked as if a full blown fight had taken place not too long ago, judging by the fresh blood splatters on the side of the upturned couch. Gibbs and Fornell immediately drew their guns, pushing the landlord out into the hall as he started to follow them into the apartment.

"Ha, I got him!" The landlord exclaimed triumphantly. "He's out of here. He's gone. I'm kicking him out."

Gibbs and Fornell ignored the landlord's ranting and entered the apartment, guns drawn. Gibbs searched the living room and kitchen as Fornell explored the bedroom and bathroom. "Clear!" Gibbs called.

"Clear over here." Fornell called back, coming out of the bedroom and standing beside Gibbs in the kitchen. "If Victor was here, he left in quite a hurry." Fornell commented, eying the toaster, which was still plugged in with slices of bread still in it.

"Either that or he was dragged off by someone he trusted." Gibbs responded, picking up two mugs of cold coffee and setting them back down on the counter. He turned and headed back into the living room, stopping to examine the blood on the couch. Fornell pulled out his cell phone and dialed a few numbers.

After he hung up, he turned back to Gibbs. "I'll have a few guys here in a few minutes to examine everything and collect evidence."

Gibbs nodded absently, studying the room. "Doesn't it almost seem like whoever made this mess was looking for something?"

Fornell surveyed the room at large, taking in the torn up couch and curtains. The curtains were pulled off the walls and each of the couch cushions was sliced open and the stuffing pulled out. Fornell narrowed his eyes and headed back into the bedroom, Gibbs behind him. The bedroom was the same, now that he got a good look. The blankets were ripped open and the mattresses shredded apart. "You're right. They were looking for something. Or perhaps some**one**." He said, his eyes zeroing in on the air vent on the floor near the bedroom window. Several small dots of what looked like blood were splattered along the metal. Fornell and Gibbs walked over to it and Fornell used his knife to lift up the grate, which wasn't screwed into the floor.

A face stared up at them, brown eyes permanently filled with fear, the unattached head sitting on a pile of body parts stuffed into the vent. Fornell sighed and let the grate fall shut. "Victor Hendricks. You guys want the body?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, we'll take the body and your men can take the evidence."

As they were about to head back out into the hall, the phone rang. Both men paused, searching for the phone under the debris. Suddenly the ringing stopped and a beep sounded from the answering machine, followed by a man's voice. "Vic? It's Jason. Hey man, I think we've got a problem with Aaron. He's gone nuts, man. He's talking crazy. He was going on about eliminating the federal agent at the hospital yesterday and now he thinks someone is selling us out. You know how paranoid he is. If he thinks someone is selling us out, he's going to eliminate all probabilities. Damn it, I knew this whole thing was a bad idea. I knew we should have stayed in Arlington. Damn. Just call me back. And if Aaron comes by, don't open the door. Pretend you're not home. Do whatever you have to. Just don't answer the door." There was a pause and then the voice continued in a hushed whisper. "I gotta go. Someone's at the door. I think it's Aaron. As soon as he leaves, I'm going to call those agents and tell them what's going on. It's time to put a stop to this, Vic. Aaron's gotta stop. I'll call you later after I talk to the agents."

Fornell turned to Gibbs as the call ended. "You thinking Aaron did this?" he asked, gesturing to the mess. "And that?" he added, nodding his head back to the bedroom.

Gibbs finally located the phone from under a bookshelf and carried it, and the machine, out the door. "If he is, then he's eradicating his guys. Which means we've got to get to Jason's house before Aaron does."

"Unless that was Aaron at the door." Fornell replied. The two of them rushed out of the apartment, taking the landlord with them, and headed down the hall to the elevator. "No one touches anything in that apartment." Fornell told the landlord as they rode the elevator back down to the main floor. "No one goes anywhere near that apartment. It is now a crime scene and anybody caught within several feet of it will be taken into custody. Is that understood?"

"Y-yeah." The landlord responded nervously.

* * *

Gibbs and Fornell leaped out of their car and up the driveway to Jason Peing's house. Both of them drew their weapons when they noticed the front door open slightly. Gibbs looked at Fornell, who nodded, and then pushed the door open. They entered the house, guns drawn. The house mimicked Victor's apartment, with all of the furniture slashed up and blood splattered along a wall near the bedroom door.

Gibbs and Fornell searched the house, starting with the living room, then the kitchen, and finally the single bedroom and bathroom. Gibbs noticed the blood trail leading to the closet and motioned to Fornell. Gibbs slowly approached the closet, Fornell poised behind him, gun at the ready. Gibbs bent down to examine the closet door, which had several bullet holes scattered around near the bottom. Gibbs aimed his gun at the closet as he reached out and quickly pulled it open.

A young man, looking to be in his mid to late twenties, sat breathing heavily on the floor of the closet, several bloody bullet holes decorating his abdomen and a single shot in his left shoulder. Blood trickled down his chin as he looked up at them, his breathing coming out in haggard gasps. "I'm. Sorry." He gasped, more blood trickling down his chin and onto his already bloody white dress shirt. "Stop. Aaron. He'll. Kill. Vic."

"He's already dead." Gibbs replied.

"No." Jason shook his head mournfully, squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them to stare up at them. "Stop. Aaron." He repeated desperately, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "He's. Going after. The. Agent."

"Where can I find him?" Gibbs demanded. "Where can I find Aaron?"

"You. Can't." Jason replied. Gibbs could tell he was struggling to speak, as his head slowly started to droop. "He. Can't be. Found. Unless he. Wants to be."

"Is he going after the others?" Fornell asked.

Jason nodded slowly before his lids lowered and his head hunched down to his chest, his body going limp.

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**A/N: Well, what do you think? So now Aaron's killing off his own men to save himself. What a jerk. And aren't you glad I didn't kill off Tim? I am. I like Tim. He's my favorite NCIS character. And sorry for the terrible cliff hanger. If I went any further, I wouldn't ever find an ending.**

**A quick word to my readers. I have now finished my other story Dolly Hiei. The chapters are finished and will be posted one at a time every Friday. But the story is done, which means that I will now be able to spend the rest of my time focusing on this story until it is done, which won't be long. Next chapter, the fun begins. Don't forget to review.**


	13. Ziva

**A/N: Here is chapter thirteen, right on time! Actually it looks like we're early with this chapter. Oh well, it's better this way, right?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters. I own the doctor (but not his name, that's from Bleach), the bad guys, and anything else that doesn't belong with NCIS if you watch the episodes very carefully.**

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**Chapter Thirteen: Ziva**

Gibbs and Fornell entered the bull pen, both of them exhausted. They've been running around town all day, heading to every home of every one of Aaron's guys, including the ones that Tony sent them to after he finally got the information on them. Each one was found dead in their home; all of them shot multiple times. The odd thing was that none of the neighbors had heard any gun fire, which meant Aaron had used a silencer. So, where was Aaron now?

Gibbs sighed and sat down heavily in his seat, Fornell sitting in Ziva's. "What have you got for me, Tony?" Gibbs asked wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Tony looked worriedly at his boss before answering. "Well, as far as we know, Aaron killed off his guys when he realized we could use them to find him. That shows he's worried. Also, he threatened McGee again. That can go either way; he could have said that to trick us or to warn us. If he's tricking us, then that means he has something else planned. If he's warning us, then it could be that he's being cocky and thinks he can get away with whatever he's planning, even if we're ready and waiting for him. If that's the case, we could use his overconfidence to our advantage somehow.

"We've got Ziva at the hospital now, watching out for McGee just in case, and we're here working on finding him. That guy, Eric, he said that he had seen a type of moss on Richard's shoe that could be from one of the parks or woods around here. And Josh said that he had seen Peter and the others at a park that the big kids go to. So, we know that one of the places to look is a park. We still haven't found the body of the army woman, so we've got that for us too. Most likely the evidence will be the same as what we've gotten so far, which is nothing." Tony took a deep breath and continued. "Honestly, boss. I'm not sure what to do. All of our witnesses are dead except Josh, and we can't question him until his parents get here tomorrow. And we won't know anything about the victims or Aaron's crew until Ducky finishes the autopsies. What else can we do?"

"What about the videos?" Fornell asked. "Have you watched any of them? Maybe there's a clue in the videos that can show us where Aaron is hiding. Maybe there's something in each video that will stand out."

"It's a possibility." Tony considered. "I guess I can do that, since I'm pretty much useless otherwise." He looked down at the wheelchair with a bitter expression. "Ziva called me a while ago. She said that the doctor said he won't know for sure when I can get out of this wheelchair until he examines me again but he thinks I can be out by tomorrow, at the earliest. Until then, watching the videos would be the only thing I can do to help for now."

"Then you do that, Tony." Gibbs said, rising from his seat and stretching his back. "Tobias, lets go down to autopsy. Maybe Ducky has something for us. Or Abby."

As Fornell stood to follow Gibbs, his cell phone rang. He paused when he saw the caller ID and quickly answered. "Fornell."

"Sir, there's a problem. Gibbs's agent, David, is missing." Reported the voice of one of Fornell's men. "There was a gunshot and then silence. We're searching right now but we can't go far without leaving McGee."

"Alright, we're on our way." Fornell said, heading toward the elevator, Gibbs right on his heels. "Stolson's men are all dead but we need you to keep an eye on Agent McGee just in case. Keep the patients and doctors calm. We don't want to start a panic or we'll never find her."

"Yessir." The man said before hanging up.

Fornell turned to Gibbs and filled him in. "Ziva can take care of herself for the most part." Gibbs said. "But we need to get over there anyways. Who knows how many others Aaron found to replace his dead men already."

Gibbs and Fornell hurried out of the building and jumped into their car, Gibbs at the wheel, and sped down the street toward the hospital. Gibbs only hoped he didn't get there too late again.

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Ziva stood next to the vending machine, hands clenched in tight fists, the urge to destroy the machine growing with every minute. The longer she looked at McGee through the window, battered and broken on the too white hospital sheets, the more she wanted to find the man responsible and rip his head off. McGee was her friend. He was nice to her when she first arrived at NCIS. She got along well with him. She actually found him more tolerable than Tony. He was the nicest person she knew, and that was saying something because she knew many people. He was smart and kind and honest and an all around decent guy. So why was this happening to him? Why McGee? How could something so horrible happen to someone so undeserving?

Ziva slowly took several deep breaths to try and calm her trembling body, her fists still clenched. She hoped no one spoke to her. She didn't think she could resist hitting the first person that approached her. Taking a few more deep breaths, she slowly turned, intending on heading back to McGee's ward when something caught her attention. She could have sworn she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

Quickly, she placed her hand on her gun at her hip and inched closer towards the almost empty hall. Why was it empty? Hadn't she just seen several visitors walking around this same hall when she first came to the vending machine? Ziva reached the corner of the hall and waited a few seconds before drawing her weapon and quickly turning to face the hall, gun drawn.

She lowered her gun a moment later when she saw no one. Frowning in suspicion, she kept her gun in hand as she headed down the deserted hall, keeping her ear trained for anything that didn't belong. She walked down the hall until she got to the end, which split into two different directions. She turned to head back when something caught her eye again. Now she knew she saw something. Out of the corner of her eye again, she knew she saw a figure cross the hall to her left, going from one room to the other across the way.

Ziva headed towards the area she thought she saw the figure. As she approached the general direction of where the figure might have been, she began opening doors, her gun rising every time the door opened and lowering again when all she saw were empty rooms or closets of cleaning supplies or extra sheets. She left the doors opened as she headed to the next one and the next one. Finally she stood before the last door, just at the end of the hall. Aiming her gun, she quickly counted to three in her head and shoved the door open, raising her gun in preparation.

The room was empty, except for the small plain table and hospital bed with its too white sheets and walls. She entered the room slowly and looked around. She knew there was someone in one of these rooms. She saw them, she knew she did. Was she just tired? No, she knew that wasn't it. There really was someone here. So where did they go? They couldn't have disappeared. Where did they go? Ziva searched the room, though there weren't many places to look. She entered the bathroom and pushed the flimsy curtain aside. Still nothing.

Ziva turned away from the shower, glanced in the mirror and froze. A man that she recognized from the picture she and Tony saw when they read over the news article, stood behind her with a sinister grin on his face. Aaron Stolson. Ziva barely had time to register the wild look in his eyes before he wrapped a cord around her neck, cutting off any air she tried to get to her lungs. Ziva clumsily aimed her gun behind her and fired.

There was a small grunt of pain before a searing pain formed in the small of her back from Aaron's knee. Aaron grabbed her gun, twisting it free of her weakening grip, and tossing it into the toilet. Then he dragged her out of the bathroom and into the main part of the room. He shoved her forward, causing her to fall and hit her head on the bars on the side of the bed.

Stars flashing in front of her eyes, Ziva tried to rise to her feet but cried out in pain as a sudden kick to the stomach sent her sprawling back to the floor. Before she could do more than clutch her stomach, another kick connected with her hip, and then another to her right leg, causing Ziva to cry out again as she felt something snap.

Quickly she rolled away from Aaron as he aimed another kick at her. She rolled onto her back and, using her good leg, swung it up and connected it with the back of his knees, making him fall backwards. Ziva shoved herself up onto her knees and threw herself at Aaron, landing on top of him and pulling her fist back before connecting it with the side of his face. She repeated this action several more times before he reached down and grabbed her injured leg, squeezing tightly.

Ziva cried out again as she was forced to release her grip on him. Quickly he flipped them over and began mimicking her actions, aiming punch after punch at her face and even some to her ribs. Ziva lost count of how many times she heard the bones snap as she fought to free herself.

Sensing her efforts, Aaron shoved a knee between her legs and then the other, setting her legs on either side of his hips and rendering her motionless. Ziva took this moment to raise both legs as high as she could, lock her ankles around the front of his neck, and shove as hard as she could, shoving him backwards with her lower legs. She resisted the urge to scream as the movements caused a sharp pain to shoot from her injured leg to the rest of her body.

Ignoring her pain, she aimed a kick at him, feeling her foot connect with the side of his head and knocking him backwards even more. Quickly, she dragged herself toward the door as she started to hear voices from out in the hall. Before she could reach the door, Aaron grabbed the ankle of her injured leg and pulled her back before getting up and locking the door. Then he grabbed her hair and dragged her to her feet before shoving his knee into her stomach. As she doubled over with a cry, he back handed her, sending her sailing into the side table.

Ziva whirled with the table and threw it at him. He ducked away from the table, allowing it to fly past him and into the door. Several shouts sounded from the other side of the door, followed by someone pounding on it.

Aaron surged toward Ziva and grabbed her around the neck, shoving her backwards until her back was against the wall. Using the wall for support, Ziva jumped and, again, used both of her feet to kick him in the stomach and send him backwards to the floor. The sudden absence of his weight on her neck sent her sliding down the wall to the floor herself, causing more pain to go through her body from her leg and the rest of her body.

As more pounding and shouting could be heard from the other side of the door, Ziva tried to crawl over to it but was stopped as Aaron grabbed her legs and pulled her towards him. He wrapped his hands around her neck, cutting off her airway, and started slamming her head against the ground.

Ziva fought to free herself but her darkening vision told her that she was fading fast. She couldn't breath. She couldn't think. She couldn't do anything to fight back. Her body was screaming at her, screaming in pain, her head aching as she was repeatedly slammed to the floor. Ziva clawed at anything within clawing distance, struggling to get free, to allow much needed air to flow through her lungs and clear her buzzing head.

As her vision began to fade, Ziva thought she heard what sounded like a gunshot, or perhaps it was thunder. Why was there thunder in a hospital? Then a man entered her vision and for a moment, her heart thudded and she began swinging her fists, trying to get whoever was making her hurt away from her. The man grabbed her wrists and began speaking to her. She could see his lips moving but couldn't hear what he was saying. Wait, she knew this man. There was something familiar about him. Something that told her he was safe. Then why was she fighting? She was fighting someone, wasn't she? Who? Does it matter? No, not right now. This man was here, and he seemed safe. So perhaps she didn't need to fight after all. Maybe she could go to sleep instead. Yes, sleep sounded like a good idea. But why is this man slapping her face? Couldn't he see he was keeping her from going to sleep? Why wouldn't he let her sleep? Someone needed to make him leave her alone. She wanted to sleep, damn it!

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Gibbs and Fornell burst into the hospital and headed directly for McGee's ward. They found patients, doctors, and nurses and even janitors flooding the halls the closer they got to McGee's ward. Gibbs and Fornell shoved their way through, shouting their agency and flashing their badges as they went. Finally they managed to shove themselves to the head of the crowd.

"Please, I can assure you all that everything is under control!" Shouted Dr. Hitsugaya as they agents approached. He was standing in front of the entrance to the ICU. "Please, remain calm! Agent Gibbs, what is going on?"

"We need to get in there." Gibbs said. "One of my agents is in danger."

Dr. Hitsugaya led them inside after giving the other doctors instructions to keep everyone else out. "What is happening?" he asked Gibbs and Fornell as they headed down the hall to McGee's room. "There was a gunshot and everyone went into a panic. People started screaming and running."

"The man who tried to kill my agent." Gibbs explained. "He's here and we believe he has attacked one of my other agents. I sent her here to help keep guard over McGee when the guy called and threatened to finish him off. Now she's missing."

Before the doctor could respond, they reached McGee's room and Fornell began firing off questions to his men. They told them they heard the gunshot go off down one hall. They searched as far as the vending machine but couldn't go any farther without losing sight of Agent McGee's room.

Gibbs and Fornell rushed down the hall the men had indicated to and both of them headed past the vending machine toward one hall, and then down another before they came to a split hallway. "Ziva!" Gibbs called. He and Fornell started to split down the two hallways but stopped when they heard a cry of pain coming from one of the rooms near the end of Gibbs's hallway.

Quickly both men headed town the hallway, noticing each open door as they passed. "Ziva!" Gibbs called again. The two of them hurried down the hall to the only door that was closed in time to hear a crash against the door. Gibbs tried the doorknob but it was locked. Both of them began pounding on the door, trying to get it open. Finally the door gave way and the two men rushed into the room in time to see Aaron on top of Ziva, his hands around her neck. Gibbs noticed Ziva's struggling getting weaker before he pointed his gun at Aaron. "Let her go!" he shouted.

Aaron growled but refused to let her go, squeezing her neck harder. Gibbs pulled the trigger, firing into Aaron's chest. Aaron stiffened and fell backwards, landing on the ground and a pool of blood starting to form around him. Gibbs rushed to Ziva as she lay still, gasping for breath, while Fornell ran up to Aaron's still form, gun pointed at him just in case.

"Ziva." Gibbs called, gently grabbing her wrists as she tried to fight him off. He noticed how weak her swings were and her eye lids half closed, her breathing shortening. "Ziva, it's all right. You're safe. You're okay."

Ziva stopped struggling and her body began to go limp. "Ziva!" Gibbs called softly, his voice urgent. "Ziva, stay with me! Come on, stay with me. You're going to be okay. Tobias, get the doctor."

"No need, Agent Gibbs." Dr. Hitsugaya said from behind him. He rushed up to kneel beside him and began examining Ziva. "We need to get her to the E.R. while we can. She's got a concussion, so keep her awake while I go find her a stretcher."

Gibbs continued to speak with Ziva as the doctor left to get the stretcher. "Ziva, can you hear me? Come on, stay with me, Ziva. You're stronger than this. You can do it."

"Sleep." Ziva whispered weakly.

"No, Ziva. Don't go to sleep." Gibbs said hastily. "You need to stay awake. Stay awake, Ziva."

Fornell stood a ways away from Gibbs and Ziva, giving them breathing room. He waited until the doctor returned with two men carrying a stretcher. They loaded Ziva onto the stretcher and carried her out of the room. Gibbs stayed kneeling on the ground where Ziva had lain, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists, his breathing irregular. Slowly Fornell approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "She's going to be okay, Gibbs." He assured him, hoping he was right.

Gibbs nodded but didn't move. "He won." Gibbs said quietly. "He got all of them. He got each one of my agents and almost killed all three of them." _I failed all three of them._ He thought. _They count on me to protect them and yet each one of them ended up near death. I couldn't protect them. I couldn't protect any of them. Tim, Tony and now Ziva. What would have happened if I hadn't gotten here in time? What about Tony? And Tim? This all started because they attacked Tim. Why Tim, out of all of the 'officers' in this town? I couldn't protect them when they were counting on me._

"They'll be fine." Fornell said, guessing what Gibbs was thinking about. "Tony's fine and McGee is still safe for now. And Ziva was already in the hospital to begin with."

Gibbs nodded and finally stood up and headed out the door after the doctors, Fornell right behind him.

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**A/N: so how was that? I'm almost finished! One more chapter, maybe two. Then we're done! Yeah! Please don't forget to review. Otherwise I just might forget to post for a while. ;-)**


	14. More Worries

**A/N: These last chapters I couldn't have done so well without help from one of my wonderful reviewers, ****yellowrose****. Yellowrose helped me out a lot by giving me many details to things I missed, such as the injuries. So I thank you, yellowrose, for your help and much appreciated advice. You have no idea how much your details helped.**

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**Chapter Fourteen: More Worries**

Gibbs sat in one of the chairs in the ICU's waiting room, clenching his fists and glaring at the ground as he waited for Fornell to come back with Tony and Abby. After the doctors had taken Ziva, he had called Ducky to pick up the body. He and Palmer had arrived and taken the body and Fornell had left, saying that he would go to NCIS and bring Agent Dinozzo and Abby to the hospital. So here Gibbs sat, waiting for the rest of his team to get here, as well as waiting for the doctors to return with news about either of his injured agents.

"Gibbs!" someone called. Gibbs looked up and down the hall as Abby, Tony and Fornell approached him. Abby looked at him worriedly. "Where's Ziva? Is she okay? What's happening?"

"Abby, calm down. Give the man time to answer one question before asking another." Tony said, wheeling up to his boss. "So, how is she?"

Gibbs sighed wearily, feeling his age catching up with him. "I don't know yet. The doctors are still with her and they haven't come out yet. And as for McGee, the nurses are still refusing to allow anyone inside until his fever breaks. I'm still sitting in the dark."

"We all are." Fornell said. "That's the thing I hate most about hospitals. We're in the domain of the doctors and nurses, which means that these are the rules we can't shove our way through like we usually do. It's either do what they say or leave, and no amount of badge waving will make a difference."

Gibbs and Tony nodded in agreement but Abby smirked. "It's a good thing I don't have a badge then, huh?" The three men stared at her as she walked up to the nurses desk and spoke with them a moment before heading back to them with a smile on her face. "The nurse said she can't let me in but she did give me some information."

"What did she say?" Tony asked. Gibbs and Fornell looked at her expectantly, a bad feeling entering their stomachs as Abby's face fell.

"McGee is still unconscious and so is Ziva but her injuries aren't that bad." Abby said, looking nervous and afraid. "The doctor said that it looked like she was able to steel her stomach to avoid any major damage to her internal organs located there but she has bruises all over her body and her left eye is pretty swollen. We'll know more when the doctor comes back out; he's in surgery with her right now."

Gibbs sighed again. He knew Ziva had been beaten pretty badly, from what he saw himself, but he wasn't really sure what the damage was. Now he knew; broken bones, cracked bones, bruising, and he was sure the list would continue when the doctor came out of surgery. It looked like his team was slowly diminishing right before his eyes. First Tim, then Tony, then Tim again, and now Ziva. If Aaron hadn't been stopped when he had, Gibbs was sure that he would eventually be left without a team, and that was a thought he couldn't bear.

Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, completely at a loss. He knew the basics from what Fornell had told them when he had picked him and Abby up from headquarters. He knew that Aaron had beaten Ziva, though how he managed that was beyond Tony. He had an idea of how bad her injuries would be from what Fornell had said but hearing it out loud stung more than he thought it would. He couldn't believe this was happening to his teammates. No matter what Gibbs said, Tony couldn't shake the feeling of guilt slithering through his veins and threatening to tear him apart from the inside out. He was supposed to protect his team when Gibbs couldn't. As senior field agent, it was his job to make sure everyone was safe, while still fulfilling their duties. Yet look at him now; Tim was in the hospital for who knows how long, currently fighting for his life. And now Ziva was in the hospital with an injured leg, injured ribs and who knows what else. How could this week have gotten so wrong so quickly?

As the thoughts tore at the minds of the occupants of the ICU's waiting room, Ziva slowly came to, first noting the steady beeping of some kind of machine near the left side of her head. The second thing she noticed was the extremely painful throbbing in the back of her head, along her entire torso, and her right leg. She tried to mover her leg and gasped when the pain shot through her entire body, causing the machine's beeping to increase.

"Doctor!" someone shouted some distance away. A woman in white loomed over Ziva, a worried crease spreading over her brow as she checked the machine, which Ziva realized was a heart monitor. If it was a heart monitor, then that must mean that she was in the hospital. But why?

A tall Asian man that Ziva recognized came into view, a slight frown on his face as he studied her. "Ms David, can you hear me?"

She opened her mouth to speak but stopped when her throat clenched, throwing her into a coughing spasm. Her mouth felt as though she had swallowed a wad of cotton and the coughing made her lungs burn and her ribs ache. A plastic tube entered her mouth and the next thing she knew, a cool liquid rushed into her dry mouth, watering her parched and itchy throat, her body sagging into the bed in relief.

"Ms David?" the doctor asked.

Ziva looked back up at him and her memory threw out a picture of the man, dressed in a white lab coat, walking out of Tim's room and informing them that he was unconscious with an extremely high fever. Remembering that image triggered another of Tim, standing in the interrogation room, his shirt and jacket lying on the floor, black and blue bruises marring his pale skin from his chest to the waistband of his slacks. Suddenly her body jerked, her heart threatening to burst through her throbbing ribs as she gazed at the doctor. "Tim!" she gasped.

"Ms David, you must relax!" the doctor commanded, taking her hands and placing them at her sides. "Stay calm! Your friend is okay. He's fine."

No, he wasn't fine. Aaron was here and he was after Tim. Why wasn't anyone doing anything to help him? Where was Gibbs? Was she too late? No, she refused to believe that. She had to believe that he was alive. She had to find Gibbs; she had to warn them. "Gibbs!" she cried, struggling in the doctor's grasp. "Aaron!"

"Doctor, I have the sedative." A nurse said, coming around to the other side of Ziva's bed, syringe in hand.

"Wait." The doctor said, holding a hand up. He turned back to Ziva. "Ms David. Ziva. I need you to relax; you're going to bite your tongue if you don't. Your friend is fine. The other guy is gone."

"No, he's here!" Ziva cried, unable to comprehend what the doctor was saying. Her ribs throbbed painfully and her breathing became difficult. "I need to find Gibbs!"

"Okay, okay." The doctor soothed. "Would you feel better if I got Gibbs for you?"

Ziva nodded her head urgently and then stopped when her head started swimming, her struggling slowing down. Finally, they understood. She needed to find Gibbs; she needed to warn him about Aaron.

The doctor nodded back. "Alright, I'll go get him but you have to promise me that you won't take off or struggle. Can you promise me that?" Ziva nodded impatiently. "Okay," he looked up at the nurse. "Stay here with her, keep her calm but don't give her the sedative unless I say so or unless it is absolutely necessary." Then he turned and left the room.

Gibbs and the rest of their group leaped to their feet, except Tony, as Dr. Hitsugaya burst through the doors. "Agent Gibbs." He said urgently, rushing toward him. He grabbed Gibbs's arm and gently but urgently tugged him towards the doors, leaving the others to stare after them, bewilderment clear on their faces. "You need to come with me. Officer David is becoming extremely hysterical. She thinks your Agent McGee is in danger from that man, Aaron. She won't listen to us when we tell her that he's fine but hopefully you can. She's requesting you."

Gibbs nodded and quickened his pace, following the doctor as he let his arm go and led him down the hall to the room Ziva was in. He rushed into the room and knelt next to the bed. "Ziva?"

Ziva lurched forward, trying to sit up, the nurse pushing her back down by her shoulder. "Gibbs!" she cried. "McGee!"

"Ziva, relax!" Gibbs ordered, taking her hands in his and holding her wrists together to keep from hurting herself. "McGee's fine. He's okay."

"No!" she gasped, shaking her head and wincing in pain from the side of her swollen face. "Aaron."

"He's dead, Ziva." Gibbs revealed. Ziva paused, staring at him with confusion filled eyes. "He's dead. We killed him. We stopped him. You stopped him. You distracted him away from Tim until I got there. He's gone now. He's gone and he's never going to hurt you or Tony or Tim ever again. It's over."

"It's over." Ziva repeated.

"Yeah, it's over." Gibbs nodded, placing her hands against her chest. "He's gone."

"McGee?" she asked hesitantly.

"He never touched him." Gibbs said. "He never got the chance."

"Where is he now?" Ziva asked. "Where is McGee?"

"Aaron is in the morgue with Ducky." Gibbs paused before adding. "And McGee hasn't woken yet. His fever is still keeping him unconscious."

Ziva nodded, her eyes getting heavy and sleep threatening to take her. "Go to sleep, Ziva." Gibbs ordered softly, gently placing his hand on the non-swollen side of her face. "Get some rest. I expect a full recovery, so you get some sleep."

Ziva nodded slowly, her eyes closing. "Okay." She whispered. Her eyes closed and darkness took her.

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Gibbs sighed in relief as Ziva finally fell asleep. He stood up and turned to the doctor. "So how is she?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, she hurt her ribs with her struggling but it's not too bad." The doctor replied. He exited the room, Gibbs and the nurse following, and closed the door behind them before turning to face Gibbs in the hall as the nurse walked away. "She has several broken ribs, along with a cracked sternum, nothing life threatening there, but they will be pretty painful for a while, especially when she inhales. She has a minor concussion, surprisingly, but that will go away over time. She also has a fractured right femur, which was damaged pretty bad during the fight but it should heal fine after a few weeks, possibly a month or two. She'll be in a walking cast until then, along with crutches and will need to return in a couple weeks to make sure it heals properly. And of course she has several bruises along her body, mainly around the abdomen and upper torso, and a nasty bump and cut on her temple from a blunt object. The side of her face is pretty swollen, as you just saw, with a small cut on the side of her lip but there won't be any lasting marks except a small scar from the stitches over the bump on her temple. All in all, she should make a full recovery by the end of the week, at most. She was lucky."

Gibbs nodded, sighing in relief. Two of his agents, two of his kids, were going to make it. But what about the third? Gibbs looked back at the doctor. "And McGee?" he asked. His stomach clenched when the doctor hesitated.

"He's still unconscious and his fever has yet to break." Dr. Hitsugaya replied. "We won't know more about his condition until his fever breaks. There's not much more we can do until then. His fever is our main priority right now."

Gibbs sighed again and slumped against the wall behind him. He was exhausted and weary. Tim wasn't out of the woods yet. Ziva was going to recover after a bit of rest and her bones would all heal after several weeks in their respective casts. Tony was still in the wheelchair, though how long would be up to his wounds. But Tim. Tim was still unknown. His fever was so high that no one was allowed in the room for fear of contaminating him.

"Agent Gibbs." Gibbs looked up to see the doctor with a worried expression. "You and your people should go home and get some rest. There's not much any of you can do, I'm afraid. And you all look like you might end up in rooms of your own if you stay awake any longer. It'll take a few hours for Officer David to awaken from the antibiotics we're giving her but I will call you when she does, if you'd like."

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. That'll be fine." Gibbs headed back to the waiting room alone, pondering what to do next. He wasn't quite sure it had sunk in that Aaron was gone and this whole mess was finally over. No, not over. Not yet. Not until Tim makes it out of this alive. And damn it, he better make it out alive. Gibbs walked through the doors leading into the waiting room and was soon surrounded on all sides.

"What happened?" Abby cried, shoving her way to the front. Her eyes shone with worry and tears streamed freely down her face. "Is she okay? Did something happen?"

"Boss?" Tony asked hesitantly.

"Give him some air." Ducky scolded their group. He turned back to Gibbs and led him to one of the chairs. "How is Ziva, Jethro? What did Dr. Hitsugaya say?"

"Ziva's going to be fine." Gibbs told them. He noticed the group visibly relax and continued. "She has bruises and cuts, along with the injuries Abby said earlier. She also has a cracked sternum but all of the bone injuries will heal fine, as will the cuts and bruises. She has a concussion and stitches on her temple but those will also go away. She'll be in casts and crutches for about a month, maybe two."

"But why was the doctor so freaked out earlier?" Tony asked.

"Because she woke up and remembered Aaron." Gibbs said. "She wanted to warn me that he was here and looking for Tim. I told her he was gone. She was safe." He looked at Tony. "You were safe. And McGee…" Gibbs sighed. "McGee is still unknown."

"His fever hasn't broken yet?" Ducky asked solemnly.

Gibbs shook his head. Then he looked up at them sternly. "But right now, I want all of you to go home and get some sleep. No arguing." He said when the group started to protest. "Ziva has been given antibiotics that will keep her out for several hours and we won't be able to see her when she wakes up if we all pass out from exhaustion first. Dr. Hitsugaya has assured me that he will call me as soon as she's awake and when she does, we'll be allowed to see her."

"No doubt, they'll move her to a regular room when they're sure she'll be okay." Ducky said. "I believe you are right, Jethro. We won't be much good half asleep on our feet. Lord knows how stressful the week has been for all of us. Though it is early, I agree that rest is much needed right now."

Slowly the others agreed and began to depart, Abby going with Ducky and Palmer, before only Tony, Gibbs, and Fornell remained. "Mind giving a cripple a ride home?" Tony asked, looking between Gibbs and Fornell.

"Yeah, Tony." Gibbs said, standing. He turned to Fornell as the three of them headed to the exit and out into the parking lot. "Glad for your help, Tobias." He said, shaking the other man's hand.

"No problem." Fornell said with a smirk. "I'm sort of getting used to saving your ass. And getting **your** problems dumped into my lap."

Gibbs smirked back. "At least we know you're worth your position, if only slightly."

Fornell scowled good naturedly and headed to his car. He stopped before getting into his car and turned back to Gibbs. "You owe me, Jethro. And let me know what happens to your boy. He's a good kid."

Gibbs shook his head, a small smile ghosting his face. "No. He's a good agent." Fornell nodded and got into his car and drove away. Gibbs sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that day and gazed at the setting sun, the clouds and sky drenched in colors of pink and yellow and orange and red and everything in between. How calm the sky looked, even if it did look like it was on fire. It was hard for him to believe that it could be so calm when there was a disaster going on in the body of his youngest agent.

"Boss?" Tony asked, concern dripping from his voice like water from a broken pipe.

Gibbs tore his eyes away from the flaming sky and turned back to Tony and nodded to him. "Let's go." He helped Tony into the front seat and folded up the wheelchair before shoving it into the back seat and climbing into his own. As he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, he couldn't help looking at the calm sky once more and hoped that this calm wasn't the calm before the storm. He wasn't sure he or the others could take another one.

* * *

**A/N: I know this one is short and not very fulfilling, to say the least but I really wanted to post this and I couldn't think of what else to write. This isn't the end though. Tim isn't just going to stay in the hospital, you know. I'll begin writing the next chapter after this one is posted, so expect it by Thursday or Friday. Please review. Or you can wait until the next chapter and review both at the same time. Up to you.**


	15. Awakening

**A/N: Chapter fifteen is finally here. This **_**should**__**be**_** the second to last chapter of our story and I thank you all for your support. Happy reading!**

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**Chapter Fifteen: Awakening**

The next few days passed with little to no trouble. There were no cases for Gibbs and his team because at the moment, he didn't have a team. Tony was still in his wheelchair until Dr. Hitsugaya said otherwise, much to Tony's displeasure. Ziva was finally to be released but would remain with her crutches for the next several weeks, though deep down she felt that it was a well deserved punishment for being unable to protect Tim. And Tim himself was still in the hospital, his fever breaking only once last night, only to rise again earlier that morning. Director Vance didn't need to come down from his office to tell Gibbs that his team was shut down until they all recovered. Nor did Dr. Hitsugaya need to tell Gibbs that he recommends his agents not resume any field work until he gave the okay. He had absolutely no intention of letting any of his agents out into the field until he was damn sure they were able, no matter how much they fussed and complained.

Gibbs stood in his basement Sunday afternoon, slowly sanding the beams making up the bottom of his unfinished boat. His mind once again strayed back to the days before, back to the Monday that this whole thing started on. He still couldn't believe it had only been a week tomorrow that this had started. A week today if he was counting the Sunday that Tim was first attacked. Gibbs had been able to give every family of Aaron's victims some peace, knowing that the bastard that had killed their loved one was finally dead. He still had no idea why he had attacked Tim, of all people. What had made him focus so much on Tim, when there were others? Tim didn't fit the pattern Aaron had made for himself. He had beaten, raped, and killed each one of his victims like they were nothing. Yet Tim had remained alive. Why?

"Boss?"

Gibbs turned to look up at the top landing of the basement stairs, Tony staring down at him from his wheelchair. "Yeah?"

"Phone." He said, holding up the receiver to the house phone. "It's Dr. Hitsugaya."

Gibbs set the sander on his work bench and trumped upstairs, taking the phone from Tony and following him into the main part of the house and into the kitchen. "Gibbs." He said into the receiver.

"Agent Gibbs, I have wonderful news." Dr. Hitsugaya said. He sounded both tired and relieved. "Timothy's fever has broken at last, for good this time. It's still a little high, 103.2˚ but it is steadily dropping. We feel that it should be back to normal by midnight tonight, at the latest. If we can get him to at least 100˚, we may be able to consider allowing visitors. Does he have any relatives? I'm afraid that with all that has happened, I wasn't able to ask earlier."

"Yeah, he has his parents and his sister but right now they're all on a trip." Gibbs said. His heart was slowly swelling and his shoulders felt as though a great weight was being lifted from them. Tim's fever had finally broken, for good this time. "His parents are vacationing in England right now and their daughter decided to go with them. Tim had refused, saying he didn't want to leave his work." Maybe he should have made Tim go. Maybe if he had, Tim wouldn't have gotten dragged into this mess.

"I see. Well, in that case, I suppose once visitors are permitted, you and your team may see him but it will have to be one at a time until he is well enough for larger groups." Dr. Hitsugaya said. "He's still unconscious but now that his fever has broken, it shouldn't be long before he regains consciousness. I just thought you would like to know about his fever. And that Ms David is just about ready to be picked up, if you're ready."

"Yes, thank you." Gibbs said, a smile tugging at his mouth when he noticed Tony practically bouncing in his chair impatiently. "And please let me know when he does."

Gibbs clicked off the phone and set the receiver on the counter before grabbing a mug and pouring himself some of the coffee he had reheated from that morning. Then he sat at the table and drank, ignoring Tony's bouncing until finally Tony burst.

"Boss!" Tony exclaimed impatiently. "What happened? He's okay, right? He's recovered? He's awake? Tell me what the doctor said."

"His fever broke." Gibbs said, an amused expression on his face. "It's down to 103.2˚ right now and Dr. Hitsugaya said that if they could get it to stay down at 100˚ at least, they would consider allowing visitors. He's still unconscious but if his fever stays on the good side, he should wake up soon."

Tony stared at him a moment before breaking into a wide grin. "That's awesome!" he exclaimed. "He's finally recovering?"

"Yep." Gibbs said, taking another sip of his coffee. "Looks like he's going to pull through."

Tony wheeled himself around to the counter and grabbed the phone. "I'll call Abby and -"

"Hang on, Tony." Gibbs said. Tony paused and looked at his boss as he stood up. "We've got to go get Ziva first. She's being released now."

Tony set the phone back on the counter. "Then let's go."

Gibbs sat in the living room with Tony that night, both of them waiting for the phone to ring, in the hopes that Dr. Hitsugaya would let them know how Tim's fever was going. Hopefully his fever was now nearly non-existent. When they had picked up Ziva earlier, Dr. Hitsugaya had said that he would call them by ten o' clock that night for one last update of the night on Tim's condition. It was now nine thirty. Another half hour to go.

Tony sighed impatiently and brought his pillow down on his face, using his uninjured leg to kick the couch cushions beneath him. "This waiting is killing me." He complained, his voice muffled by the pillow. He lifted the pillow from his face and peered at Gibbs sitting in the armchair behind his head. "Is it ten o' clock yet?"

Gibbs sighed. "No, Tony. It's not. It's now nine thirty-two, two minutes past the last time you asked. Relax." Gibbs said, leaning back in his chair. "Take a nap."

Tony glared. "If I fell asleep, I wouldn't wake up again until morning. And you wouldn't wake me up when the doctor called, would you?" Gibbs smirked but remained silent. "That's what I thought. No thanks. I'll stay awake."

"At least you won't have to go anywhere." Gibbs said, eyeing the couch. "You're already in bed."

Tony scowled. "The only reason I'm on the couch is because I can't get to the spare bedroom because of the stairs." His scowl deepened and he turned to glare at the wheelchair sitting innocently in the corner. "Stupid chair."

"Quit complaining, Dinozzo." Gibbs grumbled. "Otherwise I'll just knock you out myself."

Tony jammed the pillow back on his head and crossed his arms over his chest, grumbling indistinctly. Ten minutes later, Gibbs looked down at his senior agent, noticing that the grumbling had stopped. Gibbs raised an eyebrow and lifted the pillow, smirking at his sleeping agent. He placed the pillow on Tony's chest, so he didn't accidently suffocate with the pillow on his face, and continued to wait for the phone, more thoughts of the past week playing through his head.

Several minutes later, Gibbs's house phone rang and Gibbs reached for it, grabbing the pillow from Tony's chest and whacking him on the head with it. "I wasn't sleeping, boss." Tony said, jerking awake and pushing himself half way up.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and answered the phone. "Gibbs." He said.

"Agent Gibbs, it's Dr. Hitsugaya." came the reply. Gibbs nodded absently as the doctor continued. "Tim's fever has finally returned to normal. I checked his vitals and everything seems to be returning to normal as well. His bones are mending properly, and his bruises are beginning to fade. Slowly."

"Thank you, doc." Gibbs said. "Now that his fever is gone, do you have an idea when he should wake up?"

"It's hard to tell, but I believe he should regain consciousness sometime this week." Dr. Hitsugaya said. "However, I'll keep you informed if he wakes up early or if anything else happens."

"Thank you." Gibbs repeated. "Good night."

"So?" Tony asked expectantly.

"His fever is gone." Gibbs answered. He stood up and stretched before placing the receiver back on the stand and heading for the stairs. "They're going to keep him in the ICU ward until they're sure his fever won't return and they'll let us know if anything changes."

"That's good." Tony sighed in relief. Then he yawned and settled back down. "Do we have work tomorrow?"

Gibbs nodded as he headed up the stairs. "Yep, so get some sleep."

* * *

Tim first realized he was alive when he heard the steady beeping of a machine near his left ear. Death shouldn't be this noisy. He tried to take a breath but suddenly stopped, his throat clenching at an object stuck in his windpipe. He froze, taking a timid breath from his nose instead. It was a bit painful but much better than using his mouth. Fear was the only thing that kept him from panicking as he carefully let his senses run throughout the room, trying to make out where he was and whether or not it was safe to open his eyes and reveal that he was conscious. He was lying on something soft, he noted, his fingertips shifting slightly against the soft material. Cloth, it seems. The aroma of the room made him think of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant. Adding them together and taking into account the noise of the machine and the unknown object in his mouth, he guessed he was in a hospital, though how he got there was an entirely different matter. Still, it seemed that he wasn't in any danger and slowly opened his eyes.

Or at least he attempted to. His left eye opened a crack, showing him a bleary white room with bleary, oddly shaped objects. His right eye, however, wouldn't open at all. In fact, it sort of felt like something was covering his eye, preventing it from opening. Was it injured? He wasn't sure. It didn't hurt, unlike the rest of his body, but he couldn't exactly feel it either. Perhaps it was just numb. But what if it wasn't? What if his eye was gone? What if something happened and they had to take it out? He could lose his job. He wouldn't be able to work ever again, at anything. Panic swelled in his chest, increasing when he took a shuddering breath through his mouth and felt his throat muscles clamp down on the foreign object, blocking the much needed oxygen. The machine near his ear beeped rapidly, frightening him even more.

Suddenly an Asian man in a white lab coat rushed into the room, two nurses trailing behind him. The nurses began checking the machine as the man, doctor he assumed, leaned over him. "Timothy? I need you to relax." The doctor ordered. His voice was gentle but firm and Tim found himself trying to obey his command. He tried to reign in his panic but it increased when he started to gag on the object in his throat. "Timothy, calm down. You have a breathing tube in your throat. It's okay. Just breathe through your nose. I know it hurts but it's better than suffocating."

Tim instinctively held his breath and carefully drew air through his nose and into his lungs. "That's good." The doctor coached. "Keep doing that. Breath through your nose, that's it. Calmly. Good." Tim continued to take deep breaths through his nose until his throat unclenched and he sagged back on his bed with a sigh through his nose.

"Feel better?" the doctor asked. Tim nodded slightly. "Good. Now, Timothy. I'm Dr. Hitsugaya. As you may have assumed, I'm your doctor. You've given us all quite a scare. Do you remember anything before waking up?

Oh, he definitely remembered. He remembered everything. Driving home with Tony behind him, Tony telling him to go on ahead when a cop pulled Tony over, being grabbed from his car and carried behind the apartment building, the scene that took place there, him dragging himself up to his apartment and kicking the door closed before he slipped unconscious. Next moment, he woke up here. Tim looked up at Dr. Hitsugaya through his single eye and nodded slightly. The doctor looked at him sadly. "Do you remember everything?" Again he nodded. "I thought so. I'm sorry you went through that. I'm not going to pretend like I know what you're going through because I don't. But I will say that keeping it inside is neither healthy nor safe. There are people you can talk to or you could always talk to someone you trust. But I highly recommend that you talk to _someone_. Understood?" Tim hesitated before nodding again. He hadn't exactly said he **had** to tell someone. He just **recommended** it, as his own professional opinion.

The doctor nodded. "Good, now that that's taken care of, we need to make sure you understand your current situation. You still have a slight concussion but it's going away. I'm going to check your eyes and make sure on a few things, okay? And by the way, I'm sure you've realized by now that you can't see out of your right eye. That's because it is bandaged over. Your eyelid has swollen to the point that it has sealed itself shut. We've put some medication on the bandage to help with the swelling." He pulled a long silver tube from his breast pocket and turned a knob before pointing the lighted end at Tim's face. "Now, I want you to follow the light with your eye only. Good. Follow the light only with your eye. Good." Then he put the light away and turned back to him.

"Now where should I start?" he said. He tapped at a thin tube connecting the bigger tube in Tim's throat with a machine on his right side. "First, this tube is in your throat because several of your ribs were broken and one of them stabbed into your lung. We were able to place a patch over the tear but it will take a while for the patch to merge with the lung tissue, so until then, you're going to have to breathe through the tube. Don't worry, it's not permanent.

Secondly, we noticed that your broken ribs were already broken and had begun to heal incorrectly. We had to rebreak them and shift them back where they were to go. Fortunately, only a day had passed, so there was no permanent bone damage. Your lower lip was sliced open but it's healing quite well with the stitches. They should be ready to come out soon. I'm also assuming you've noticed that it hurts to breath through your nose. That's because your nose is also broken. It was a clean break, so it wasn't too hard to set right. It should heal within a few weeks, as will the rest of your broken bones. The major breaks will take at least two months, and that includes both of your legs. Neither of them wanted to mend properly. We had to go in and surgically place them together a second time. You were lucky with your right leg. It was the worst break out of all of them. Both the Tibia and Fibula are broken and though they will heal just fine, you won't be able to use it as extensively as you usually do. If you play any sports, that rules them out.

Your left leg is in better shape. A clean break across the femur, easy to place back, though it did put up a fight. That one should heal with no problems at all. Your ribs are fine, though almost all of them are broken and your left arm is also broken in two places, both of them above the elbow. You noticed the casts? Your arm should heal first but all in all, you'll end up incapacitated for at least two and a half months, and possibly out of work for three, maybe four. I realize this is upsetting, judging by how much you seem to love your job, according to your teammates, but don't feel too bad. They're no better than you right now. Your friend Anthony is currently in a wheelchair with a leg and hip injury. His arm and shoulder weren't too bad. And your friend Ziva will be in a cast and crutches for several weeks, if not a month, and won't be going back to field work for at least two while her ribs and sternum heal. And your boss has informed me that your whole team has been taken off duty until further notice. So you're not really missing much." Dr. Hitsugaya stood from his seat on the edge of Tim's bed and sighed. "Normally I would ask you if you had any questions but seeing as how you can't speak at the moment, we'll just save that for tomorrow; your lung tissue should be strong enough for you to breath on your own by then. Do you think you can hold off on the questions until then?"

Tim thought about this and then nodded. He had a lot to think about anyways. "Good." The doctor said with a nod of his own. "Then I'll record your status on your record sheet and then I'll call your co-workers and let them know you're awake." The doctor paused. "Unless you don't want them to know yet?" Tim shook his head immediately. He didn't want to see anyone just yet. He had too much going through his mind to worry about anything else. The others could hold off on him for a few more minutes. Besides, he didn't want to see the anger he knew would be on their faces when they saw him. How could they not be angry? They had risked their lives for him Why? He ended up hurt anyways. They weren't even the target, he was. He couldn't blame them for hating him. They had every right.

"Are you sure?" Dr. Hitsugaya asked. "Your friends are really worried about you. They've been waiting for you to wake up since your fever broke on Sunday. Wouldn't you want to give them a bit of closure?"

Tim shrugged and nodded. "Alright, I'll let them know you're awake but aren't ready for visitors just yet." The doctor said, sensing Tim's distress. "Will that be okay?" Tim nodded again.

Dr. Hitsugaya nodded and continued to check his vitals before he was finally satisfied. He quickly wrote his notes on Tim's chart and replaced it at the end of the bed before leaving the room and shutting the door. Tim let his head sink back into the pillow and he sighed through his nose, wincing at the pain that accompanied the breath. So he was alive. But at what cost? Gibbs was no doubt pissed at him for putting his team in danger, and Tony and Ziva had both been injured for no reason other than defending him. If it wasn't for him, Aaron wouldn't have gone for them. Where was Aaron now? Did they catch him? Is he still out there? Did he get away? He knew that if Aaron had gotten away, Gibbs would become obsessed with catching him. Not because he wanted to protect Tim, but because he didn't like to have a criminal get away from him. He could feel the guilt swelling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of how much trouble he had placed on his teammates. He had to get out of this hospital as soon as possible. He wanted to find some way to make it up to his team. He had a decent amount of money saved up in his account. Perhaps he could send them on a trip or something. Like an expensive cruise or something.

Tim looked behind him at the heart monitor, the steady beeping lulling him to sleep. _Maybe I'll think more about that later._ He thought as his heavy eyelid started to close. _When I'm not sleepy_.

* * *

Gibbs, Ziva and Tony sat in the bull pen Wednesday afternoon, the three of them constantly eyeing Gibbs's phone in the hopes that Dr. Hitsugaya would call them with information on Tim. They hadn't heard anything more on him since Sunday. They were becoming increasingly agitated, Tony still in his wheelchair and Ziva still learning how to maneuver herself around with her crutches. She did, however, learn that she could use them quite effectively in bonking Tony on the head with the rubbery end when he tried to steal one.

Gibbs looked at the clock at the corner of his computer screen. One o' clock. He looked up at Tony and Ziva. "One o' clock. Time for your pain pills."

Tony took a baggie of small round blue pills out of his pocket, grumbling to himself as he put two into his mouth and swallowed them with a swing from his water bottle. Ziva took hers gracefully, smirking at Tony when he made a face. "I hate pain meds." He grumbled, taking another drink. "They always taste disgusting."

"You shouldn't taste them at all if you take them properly." Ziva said. "And medication isn't supposed to taste like candy, Tony."

"Yes, thank you, Zi-va." Tony scowled. "I'll have you know-"

The three of them paused, their heads swiveling around to Gibbs's desk phone as it rang. Gibbs grabbed the receiver. "Agent Gibbs." He said.

"Agent Gibbs." Dr. Hitsugaya's voice floated through the receiver, the cheerfulness in his voice giving Gibbs a hopeful feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Great news. Timothy has awakened."

"He has?" Gibbs asked, glancing up at Tony and Ziva. "Just a second, let me put you on speaker so you can tell Tony and Ziva as well." He pressed a button and placed the receiver back in place. "You still there?"

"I'm here." The doctor said. "Good after noon, Anthony. Ziva."

"Hey doc." Tony greeted, wheeling his chair up to Gibbs's desk, Ziva using her crutches to push her desk chair up behind him. "So how's Tim?"

"Well, as I have just told your boss, Timothy has regained consciousness." The doctor said brightly. "He woke up about an hour ago and I checked his vitals. He seems to be doing well. Unfortunately he remembers everything. He has refused visitors for now and I would prefer he not have any for a while. He's still too weak to go through any stress caused by a visitor upsetting him. He's under antibiotics and pain medication right now. He'll be slipping in and out of sleep for a while. I recommend waiting until at least this time tomorrow."

"Wait, so he doesn't want to see us?" Tony asked incredulously. "Why not? What's wrong with him?"

"Tony!" Ziva scolded.

"Well, Mr. Dinozzo." Dr. Hitsugaya said. "It may be from the guilt he feels."

"Guilt? Why would he feel guilt? Guilt from what?" Tony demanded.

"I don't know." The doctor said. "I didn't ask but you could see it in his eyes. I asked him if he wanted me to let you know that he was awake and at first he shook his head 'no'. Then I asked if he was sure because you were all worried about him and if he thought you deserved a bit of closure. And he hesitated before amending. And his expression showed, not fear, but guilt. It was clear as day in his eyes. Or 'eye' as he only has one right now."

"Do you think he will be staying in the positive?" Ziva asked before Tony could respond.

"It looks that way for now." He answered. "I've explained his wounds to him and how it will go for a while. He was a bit upset about hearing that he won't be able to return to work for at least a month but I believe he understands the reason behind it. His bones and tissue damage are slowly healing and seem to be doing fine in that sense. All in all, I do believe he will make a great recovery."

"That's good, doc." Gibbs said. "Thank you for your help. And we appreciate you calling and letting us know that he's awake."

"You're welcome, Agent Gibbs." The doctor said. "I'm sorry your agent doesn't want to see you all just yet but hopefully with time, he'll feel differently."

"Hopefully." Gibbs agreed.

"I don't get it." Tony said when Gibbs ended the call. "Why would he feel guilty?"

"It is McGee." Ziva said. "Perhaps he is feeling the same type of guilt that we, ourselves, are feeling."

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked, though he refused to meet her gaze. "I don't feel any guilt."

Ziva gave him a look. "I mean the guilt we all feel about being unable to protect him. I know we all feel it, even though we pretend we don't and Gibbs told us not to. We know each other too well to get away with lying about it. I know you feel bad about not being able to get to McGee before Aaron and his men did. And I know that you, Gibbs, feel just as bad about not being able to protect him, too. I, too, feel the same. I was in the hospital and almost failed to keep Aaron away from him.

McGee must feel the same kind of guilt but more because we got hurt trying to protect him. I believe that is why he feels guilty. Because we got hurt for his sake. And for Gibbs, it could be because your team nearly died trying to protect someone that you don't think too highly of."

"Wait a minute." Gibbs said angrily. "What do you mean 'not think too highly of'?"

Ziva looked at him hesitantly. "McGee has told me a few times that he thinks you do not care about him the same way you do Tony or Abby. At first I told him that he was wrong but then he pointed out examples and he is right. I see it too. Not as much as he does, but I do see it."

"Like how?" Tony asked quizzically.

"When the dog attacked him, Gibbs did nothing to stop Abby from being angry at him for shooting it nor did he stop you from tormenting him about it." Ziva explained. She turned to Gibbs. "When he loses something or forgets something, you yell at him in a way that you wouldn't have with Tony or I. You send us out into the field almost all of the time but you hardly ever let him get away from his desk. You may have your reasons for doing what you do the way you do them, but he, as he puts it, is not a mind searcher. He does not know what you are trying to do by treating him the way you do. Imagine the way you treat him when he makes a mistake or does something wrong. Then imagine Abby or Tony doing that same thing. You would treat them differently, yes? Why? That is what he does not understand. And he is right, he is not a mind searcher."

"Mind reader." Tony corrected quietly.

"That, too." Ziva said. "He says he feels as though he is the,- how did he put it?- fourth wheel on a tricycle. Unnecessary. And that any moment now, he will be sent back to Norfolk to work with the other geeks. Yet even though you treat him the way you do, he still tries to do everything he can to please you. He does not wish to be a burden to any of us but because of what happened with Aaron, it would seem that he feels that that is exactly what he has become." Ziva stood u from her chair, using her crutches for support, and headed towards the back elevators. "I am going down to tell Abby and Ducky that McGee has awakened."

Tony silently watched her disappear into the elevator, even more guilt filling his stomach along with the pain pills, before looking back at his boss. "I think we screwed up, boss."

Gibbs nodded his head absently. He felt as if he had just suffered an extremely rude awakening. And this was not one he could lightly brush off. "Yeah, Tony. I think we did."

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**A/N: Not exactly how I wanted it to go, but it is extremely difficult to think of what else to write while doing my last homework assignments before next week. Last day of classes on the second of June. Whoo! Then I'll have way more time to write. For now, just review and let me know what you think. Story's almost over and next chapter will be longer than this one.**


	16. Apologies

**A/N: Sorry everyone! I've been so busy working on my last assignments and studying for my last final. But classes are now over so I should be finishing this up at least by Monday. Until then, here's a nice long chapter for you to hold you over. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Sixteen: Apologies**

The next time Tim opened his eyes, he noticed that he was in a different room from the one he had previously been in. The walls were now a faded light blue, almost white, instead of the blinding white he had first seen. The room was darker, no longer frighteningly bright, but a calming darkness created by blinds closed during the day. A pale white curtain hung half surrounding his bed, blocking the door from view with most of the room. From what he could see through his single eye, he noticed his heart monitor on the left side of him, in the corner next to his bed, thin tubes connecting his hand and body to the machine. The pale white blinds, the same color as the curtain surrounding his bed, were surrounded by a soft halo of sunlight, peaking into the room through any opening it could find. A small wooden end table stood beneath the window, a plastic white pitcher resting on the surface next to a small plastic cup. Two wooden armchairs sat on either side of the table, the cushions looking like soft shadows against the dark wood.

It took Tim several moments to realize that his throat was empty, though it did feel as if he had swallowed a large cotton ball. The breathing tube seemed to have been removed. He timidly tested his airway, sighing in relief when cool air swam through to his lungs, pain free. The next moment caused a chain reaction; Tim quickly took in another breath and suddenly began coughing as the cool air scratched at his dry throat. The coughing began taking a painful toll on his chest, particularly around his ribs, as the coughs scraped against the walls of his parched esophagus. The longer he coughed, the more panic that surged through his body and the rapid beeping of the heart monitor only seemed to make matters worse as he fought for air.

"Easy, now. Timothy, listen to me." Dr. Hitsugaya commanded softly, seeming to appear by the side of his bed out of nowhere. He menuvered himself to the left side of Tim's bed so he would be in his line of sight. He reached over and grabbed the pitcher and poured some water into the small cup before lifting the top of Tim's bed forward, allowing him to sit up. "Try to relax, Timothy. Your throat should be pretty dry right now. Try to drink some water. That's it. Slowly now."

Tim slowly drank some of the water offered to him. His throat began to dampen until he was able to breathe normally and he gently pushed the cup away from his mouth, breathing heavily. The doctor placed the cup on the back on the end table, eying him wearily. "Are you alright, now?"

Tim cleared his throat as best as he could before answering. "Yes." He rasped his throat sore. He cleared his throat again and said in a clearer voice. "Yes. I'm okay now."

"Good." The doctor said. He stood up and sat on the edge of Tim's bed. "Alright, now I'm sure you realize you're in another room. You've been doing well enough that I thought it was about time we switch you to a regular room instead of making you stay in ICU. Plus, it will make visiting that much easier."

"Visitors?" Tim questioned, his brow creasing in worry. "They're coming?"

"Not if you don't want them to." The doctor reassured. "But they are worried about you. They want to see you. Don't you want to see your friends?"

Tim hesitated before answering. "I don't know." He said with a shrug. "I guess so. I-I don't know."

"You don't have to if you don't want to." Dr. Hitsugaya placed a comforting hand over Tim's, being careful not to jostle the IV. "But so far we've had three of your friends call the hospital and ask if they could see you yet. I can tell they're worried."

Tim looked down at the sheets. He didn't understand; why were the others bugging the hospital just to see him? Did they just want to yell at him and get it over with? Or did they actually care? Is Dr. Hitsugaya right; are they truly worried about him? It didn't seem possible with everything he's put them through. If anything, they should be furious at him for what they had to go through on his behalf. But they weren't; or at least that's what the doctor said. Was he right? Tim wanted to believe it; he wanted to believe that they truly did care and that they wanted to come visit him because they cared and not because they wanted to yell at him. Maybe he could risk a little hope just this once. Besides, if they are going to yell at him, then at least they'll do it sooner rather than later.

Tim looked up at the doctor, who sat patiently waiting for Tim to sort everything out in his head, and nodded slowly. "I think it will be okay." He said weakly, though because of exhaustion or fear, he wasn't sure.

Dr. Hitsugaya nodded with a kind smile and patted Tim's hand before standing up. "Well, why don't you get some more sleep while I call them and let them know you're up for visitors, hm? Although, I'm only allowing one in at a time. We don't want you to overexert yourself."

Tim nodded. "Yeah." He whispered, his eye already drooping shut. He hadn't realized how tired he was until the doctor had said so. Didn't he just wake up? Must be the antibiotics. Dr. Hitsugaya nodded before turning and walking around the bed and out the door, shutting it silently behind him as Tim slipped into slumber once more.

**

* * *

**

"He has every right to be angry with us." Abby said tearfully. Out of boredom, she had abandoned her lab in search of someone to talk to and ended up in autopsy as Ziva was explaining what the doctor had said about Tim to Ducky. She had a feeling Tim would be angry at them for not being able to help him when he had asked, and because they had failed, he became too angry and betrayed to want to talk to them. She looked at Ducky and Ziva. "I mean he was counting on us to help him and we let him down. Some friends we are."

"I do not think he is angry." Ziva said softly. She knew how this would look to everyone who had tried to help Tim. Tim refusing to have visitors would seem like he was angry at everyone who had tried to help him for the same reason that Abby had said. He was counting on them to help him and they had let him down. But that wasn't how she knew Tim was feeling. "I think he feels guilty."

"What does he feel guilty for?" Abby asked incredulously. "He asked for help-"

"Exactly." Ziva interrupted. "He would most likely feel that asking for help was his first mistake. The second would be that he was unable to keep Aaron from hurting anyone other than him. Our own guilt for being unable to protect him is making **us** believe that **he** is angry. Yet I have a feeling that us getting hurt for his sake is making him think that **we** are angry at **him**."

"A circle of guilt." Ducky said thoughtfully. "**He** feels guilt for endangering **us** and **we** feel guilty for being unable to protect **him**. At another time, this would seem almost laughable."

Abby smiled dispite the seriousness of the situation. "That's our Tim, always thinking of others before himself. So what do we do now?" she asked,wiping her eyes on the already ruined sleeves of her sweater. Since they didn't have a case today, she had switched her lab coat for her normal black Lolita sweater. "Can't we go visit him anyways?"

Ducky shook his head. "I'm afraid not. If the patient refuses visitors, there is nothing the doctors can do until the patient says otherwise."

Abby opened her mouth to argue but stopped when Ziva's cell phone rang. Ziva half stood from her seat on the stool and reached into her pocket to pull her phone out. "David." She answered brusquely. She paused to listen, nodding occasionally and then hung up. "That was Gibbs. Dr. Hitsugaya called just now. McGee has agreed to allow visitors but it will have to be one at a time. His body can't take the stress of more than that."

"Then, what are we waiting for?" Abby said happily, jumping up and down in excitement. "Let's go." Without saying another word, she raced out the door, passing a startled Jimmy on her way to the elevator.

Ziva and Ducky exchanged amused glances before following after her. "Come along, Mr. Palmer." Ducky said, hanging up his lab coat and shrugging on his tailcoat as he steered Jimmy back out the door. "We're on our way to visit young Timothy in the hospital. We can only see him one at a time but everyone is planning on going there now."

"Oh, that's great." Jimmy said, following them into the elevator. "I bet he's excited to see us."

* * *

Gibbs sat in the waiting room of Tim's new ward. He and Tony had headed to the hospital as soon as he had gotten the call, letting Ziva know what the doctor had said as they headed down to the parking lot. When they had arrived, they had gone straight to the ICU ward, only to be told that Tim had been moved to a normal room two floors up. So now they sat in the normal waiting room, anticipating the moment the doctor finished his exam of Tim in order to make sure he was truly up for visitors.

"How much longer?" Tony groaned, impatiently wheeling himself back and forth in front of Gibbs. "The wait is killing me."

"Patience, Dinozzo." Gibbs said absently. He stared at the coffee cup in his hands, not really seeing it as he too waited impatiently for the doctor's return.

Tony groaned but didn't say anything. After a few more minutes of waiting, Dr. Hitsugaya finally returned, a small smile playing at his lips when he spotted the obviously impatient Tony. "Gentlemen." He said, stopping in front of them.

Gibbs rose to his feet as Tony wheeled himself around to face him. "How is he?" Gibbs asked. "He alright?"

"He's fine, Agent Gibbs." Dr. Hitsugaya smiled kindly, reassuring Gibbs and Tony. "He's still asleep right now but one of you may see him anyways if you'd like."

Gibbs nodded and turned to Tony. He knew the guilt that had been eating at his agent the moment he had found Tim's body in his apartment. Though Ziva's scolding hadn't seemed to help much either. "Go."

Tony looked at him in confusion. "Boss?"

Gibbs walked behind the younger man and gently gave his chair a shove towards the doctor. "Go." He repeated. "Say what you need to. Let him know we're here."

Tony glanced at him for another moment before nodding, his jaw set. "Got it, Boss."

Gibbs watched as Dr. Hitsugaya led Tony down the hall towards Tim's room and then sat back down in his seat to wait his turn.

* * *

Tony stopped at Tim's door, the doctor pausing behind him a moment before bending down and whispering in his ear. "Whenever you're read." Then he straightened up and continued down the hall to his other patients. Tony waited in the hall for a few more minutes, unsure if he wanted to see Tim just yet. Truth be told, he was terrified of what he might see. Once again, his imagination ran away with him, imagining the worst possible scenario. Finally he took a deep breathe and pushed the door open before wheeling himself inside.

The blinds on the window were open, allowing sunlight to soak the room with its warmth and natural brightness. The natural light made the room seem much more inviting that any room in ICU would have. Tony wheeled himself into the room, pushed the door closed behind him and wheeled himself up to Tim's bedside. The sight before him caused a lump to for in his throat as his gaze drifted over his young partner. Tim lay on the hospital bed, tubes protruding from his skin towards the machine against the wall. Tony had a feeling that the absence of ventilator tubes was a good sign; it meant that he could now breathe on his own.

Tony glanced at the casts on his partner's legs, one on his left leg going from hip to a little past the knee and one on his right going from above the knee down to his foot, both legs propped up on stacks of pillows. His gaze traveled up to the cast on his left arm, extending from shoulder to wrist. Finally he looked into Tim's face, looking over the small bandages covering his broken nose and busted lip. He winced at the patch over Tim's right eye, remembering the doctor telling them that it had completely swelled shut. His other eye also looked pretty bad, a black bruise encircling the eye; obviously a black eye from the broken nose, as Tony remembered from his jock days in high school. For some reason, black eyes sometimes seemed to form on both eyes whenever the nose was broken.

Tony watched his sleeping friend, continuing to give Tim the once over, the guilt once again swelling inside him at the thought that this could have been avoided if he had just stayed with him that night. He never should have let him go on alone. That right there should have been the first warning bell in Tony's head, and realizing this made Tony turn away from the still form and place his head on his arm resting on the side of Tim's bed. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't they just leave Tim alone? Tim was the nicest person Tony had ever met, never holding a grudge very long, always there for his friends, never saying no to someone who needed his help, no matter how exhausted he was at the time. Tony knew that when Tim got angry, which was very rare, he could take care of himself, no problem. He knew Tim was capable of dishing out whatever was being dealt to him if he really wanted to. But why go after him? Why him?

Tony brought his head back up and nearly jumped out of his chair when he saw the single eye focused silently on him, fully aware though only partially opened. Getting his breathing under control and secretly glad the heart monitor wasn't connected to him, he plastered a smile on his face and leaned forward. "Geez, McGee. You could give a guy a heart attack like that. Warn me next time, will ya?"

Tim smiled slightly in amusement, though Tony could tell how difficult it was for him to make the effort. "Sorry, Tony." He whispered weakly. The bandage and stitches on his lower lip made it difficult for Tim to breathe or speak clearly and his lip hurt too much to make his smile any bigger.

Tony grinned at hearing his voice for the first time in so long and shrugged his shoulders. "Aw, don't worry about it. How you feeling?"

Tim's head turned further toward Tony but stopped when he winced in pain from the effort. "I can't… see you very well."

"Oh, right." Tony wheeled himself away from the bed and around to Tim's left side and uncovered eye, his back to the window. "Better?" Tim nodded, a bit confused at how Tony had been able to move without getting out of his seat. "So how you feeling?" Tony repeated.

Tim paused, trying to make a quick evaluation of how he felt. "Like a… mountain… fell on me." He whispered.

Tony laughed. "You look it, too. Still having trouble breathing?"

Tim nodded and then took a closer look at Tony, or more precisely, what he was sitting in. His eye widened a bit in surprise. "You're in a wheelchair." He said.

Tony nodded. "Yep. Just what I always wanted; a chair on the go. Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, seeing the pained look in his partner's eye. He had a feeling he knew what was wrong but he wanted to hear it from Tim.

"I'm sorry." Tim whispered mournfully. His eye shone with tears threatening to spill over. He took a shuddering breathe before continuing. "I'm so sorry, Tony."

"For what?" Tony asked, pretending confusion.

"You got hurt… because of me." Tim replied softly, his lower lip trembling slightly and his voice breaking. "It's all my fault. They were after me. I'm sorry."

Tony watched as the tears started to slide down from the corner of his friend's eye and disappear into the sheet of the pillow. Tony felt as though his heart was being wrenched apart inside him as he shook his head, fighting to keep his voice under control. "No, Tim. You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I let you down. You asked us to help you and we didn't; we let you get hurt under our watch and that was unacceptable."

"I shouldn't have asked you for help." Tim said, the tears flowing freely now. Why was Tony apologizing? He did what he could but if Tim hadn't asked for help, none of this would have happened. "I knew… I was putting you… all in danger… b-by asking for help but I did it anyways. I was… being selfish… and I'm sorry. I'm s-s-so _sorry_." Tim couldn't keep from sobbing at the last word.

Tony looked away and blinked rapidly, trying desperately to keep a hold on the tears that threatened to shove their way over his lower eyelids and down his face. Tim shouldn't be apologizing. There was no way he was being selfish by asking for help. He was doing exactly what was expected of him; he was leaning on his teammates, just like he was supposed to. Why couldn't he see that? Tony took a few shuddering breaths and when he was sure his tears were under control, he looked back at Tim to see he had fallen back asleep. Seeing that Tim had fallen asleep before Tony could reassure him that it wasn't his fault seemed to be the final breach in his dam and the tears silently fell as he gently placed his hand over Tim's.

"It's not your fault, Tim." He whispered, leaning onto the bed and as close to Tim's ear as he could get without touching anything painful and reached out his free hand and gently brushed the tears from his young partner's face. His own tears slid down his face and dripped onto the white plaster-made cast on Tim's arm. "Don't you dare say it's your fault because it's not. We're your team; it's our job to look out for each other as well as our cases. That's what being a team is all about; looking after our own. And you **are** part of our team, Tim. You are. And don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

Tony sat silently watching his partner for another few minutes before reigning in his emotions and wiping his face dry with the back of his sleeve. Then he patted Tim's hand before wheeling himself around the bed and towards the door. Tony paused half way out the door and turned back to the sleeping figure on the bed. "You're part of our team always, Tim. Don't ever forget that." Then he turned and headed out the room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Gibbs, Ziva, Abby, Ducky, and Palmer looked up as Tony rolled down the hallway to them, a haunted expression on his face that alarmed them into leaping to their feet and swarming his chair. "What happened?" Gibbs asked.

"Is he okay?" Abby asked desperately.

"What's wrong?" Ziva asked, clutching the handle bars of her crutches in anticipation.

Ducky and Palmer waited patiently for Tony to begin speaking. "He's okay. He…" Tony paused, unsure how to explain. "You were right, Ziva. He does blame himself. He thinks he was being selfish when he asked for help and he wouldn't stop apologizing. He wouldn't listen to me when I tried to tell him it wasn't his fault."

Gibbs sighed as the others uncomfortably shifted their gazes. "We knew he would." Gibbs said. "We knew he'd blame himself. All we can do is try to convince him otherwise."

"Can I see him now?" Abby asked.

"I guess you can but you might need to be quiet." Tony said. "He fell asleep before I left."

"Got it." Abby said and headed down the hall before pausing and turning around with a sheepish grin. "Um, which room is it?"

Tony chuckled and told her. "Got it." She repeated and continued down the hall to Tim's room. Twenty minutes later, she returned with a small sad smile. "Well, I talked to him for a bit even though he didn't wake up. Who wants to go next?"

Ziva stood up and limped her way down the hall with her crutches. She sat in Tim's room for several minutes, speaking to him while he slept, telling him how much his team cares for him and how none of them blamed him for their getting hurt. Finally she stood and kissed his forehead before leaving and returning to the waiting room. Ducky and Jimmy headed in afterwards, repeating most of what Abby and Ziva had told him before heading back into the waiting room themselves.

"I'm afraid Mr. Palmer and I must return to NCIS." Ducky said. "Come along, Mr. Palmer."

Gibbs watched the M.E. and his assistant head into the elevator before standing and heading down the hall to Tim's room. He entered to find Tim struggling to sit up. Quickly, he reached the bed and gently pressed Tim back onto the bed. "Hang on." He said and grabbed the remote and brought the top half of the bed up until Tim was half sitting.

Tim winced as the movement caused a pounding in his head and his back and upper torso to throb painfully. When the feelings passed, he refocused on his boss, who had walked around the bed to sit within his line of sight. "Boss?" he whispered.

"Yeah, McGee." Gibbs whispered back. He knew Tim was only whispering because he was physically too weak to go any louder but for some reason, Gibbs felt as though he should whisper as well. "I'm here. How you feeling?"

Tim decided to use the same analogy he had used when Tony had asked him the same question. "Like a mountain f-fell on me." He stuttered.

Gibbs grinned. "I can only guess, McGee." He said softly.

Tim looked down at the sheets uneasily as his boss watched him. When he could no longer take the uneasiness, he glanced up. "Boss, I know… you don't like apo-apologies but…"

"Wait, McGee." Gibbs interrupted. "Don't even try it. You have nothing to apologize for. Didn't you hear what the others have been saying to you?"

Tim looked at him, confused. "The others?" he asked. "What others?"

"Well, you were asleep at the time but the others came in one at a time after Tony." Gibbs explained. "They spoke to you and I think I can guess what they were saying after what Tony said."

Tim swallowed with difficulty. "W-what did he say?"

Gibbs gave him a hard look. "That you think this whole thing is your fault. And that you felt as if you were being selfish to ask for our help even though that's what you are supposed to do with your teammates. When you know for a fact that you can't do something alone, you need to ask for help. Your teammates were the ones you asked for help from and you should have. We look after our own, McGee. And you are our own. You're part of our team, which means you're part of our family." He inched forward a bit. "**My** family."

Tim looked back down at his sheets, a heavy blush creeping over his cheeks at his boss's words. He wasn't sure what to think about this. Did his boss just say that he was part of his family? Did his boss just say something sentimental?

Gibbs reached out and gently tapped the back of his youngest agnet's head. "You hear me, Tim?"

Tim looked up at his rarely used first name. "Yeah, I hear you, boss." He whispered.

Gibbs nodded. "Good. Now go back to sleep. You need to get back as much of your strength as you can so that we can get you out of this damn place."

Tim smiled and nodded his agreement as he started to feel sleep threatening to take him again. "Okay." He whispered and soon fell asleep once again.

Gibbs placed his hand on Tim's for a moment before standing and placing the chair back against the wall under the window. "None of this is your fault, Tim. And I'll be waiting for the day you return to our team. Until then…"

* * *

**A/N: So how was that? I know it probably wasn't as long as I thought it would be but this story is just about over. Next chapter should be the last one. It's been a long ride and pretty fun, but all good things must come to an end. Let me know how I did. Thanks.**


	17. Family

**A/N: Okay everyone. This is it. The last chapter of this wonderful story. You've all been so great and I'm so glad I got a chance to write this. Thank you for reading and sticking with me. This story has given me so many wonderful reviews and inspired me to write so many more stories as I was writing. As soon as I finish posting this last chapter, which will be kind of difficult as I'm not very good with endings, I will start posting chapters for a few of my other stories. If any of you would like to find out what else I write, please feel free to visit my profile and find out. Thanks again!**

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**Chapter Seventeen: Family**

Gibbs stepped off the elevator two Fridays after the team had visited Tim for the first time and headed down the familiar hallway towards Tim's room, a single eyebrow rising slightly as he spotted Dr. Hitsugaya leaving the room. "Doctor." Gibbs greeted when he got close enough to be heard. The doctor glanced up and smiled.

"Ah, Agent Gibbs. Good afternoon." He greeted back.

"Afternoon." Gibbs replied. He cocked his head in the direction of Tim's door. "How's he doing today?"

The doctor glanced at the door and then back at Gibbs. "He's doing remarkably well, given the circumstances." He replied, heading back down the hall Gibbs had just come down. Gibbs hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Tim's door, before following the doctor. "His concussion has long since disappeared, as have the majority of his bruises. Most of them are just about gone, with only a few yellowish smudges left. The stitches in his lip are gone without leaving a scar and his nose has just about healed. One of his black eyes is almost gone and the immense swelling to his right eye has gone down a considerable amount. The bandage is gone and he's now able to open that eye almost completely, though I'm sure it will continue to be sore for a while longer." Dr. Hitsugaya handed the file he had been carrying to the receptionist at her desk in the waiting room and turned back to Gibbs.

"Will he be released soon?" Gibbs asked.

Dr. Hitsugaya nodded. "Eventually. There are still a few things that need to heal before he can leave the hospital but so far he's doing well. His ribs are healing nicely but it will still take some time for them to heal completely. The patch on his lung has completely merged with the lung tissue and he is now breathing just fine on his own. After a few more weeks or so, his arm should be completely healed and then he will be able to start physical therapy to get full use of his arm again. Same with his legs, although they will take at least another month, possibly two, to heal. I believe the break on his Tibia and Fibula will take the longest to heal, since their breaks were pretty sever." Dr. Hitsugaya paused, started to continue, and then gently took hold of Gibbs arm and steered him back down the hall to Tim's room, out of earshot of the people in the waiting room.

He stopped a few doors down from Tim's room and turned to Gibbs. "All of his physical injuries are healing the way they are supposed to, including the injuries below the waist." He gave Gibbs a hard look before continuing. "The bruises and burns along his thighs and genitals are healing properly, although the burns will leave a few minor scars, not very visible, but they will be there, which he will no doubt be unhappy with. If he ever decides to have sexual relations again, he may constantly feel self-conscious of those areas. The tissue damage to his Collin has healed but the mental scars will stick with him for a very long time. It is even possible that he may never fully recover from the emotional trauma he has endured."

Gibbs sighed and nodded in understanding. He knew there was the possibility that Tim would never mentally recover from this. He would actually be surprised and a bit suspicious if he did recover almost perfectly. No doubt Tim would try to pretend that he was fine, thinking that he should be brave and prove that he was strong enough to take this. But Gibbs knew there was nothing wrong with being afraid with things like this. He knew it would be considered almost inhuman to not be affected by it. Looks like now would be as good a time as any to talk to Tim about this. Gibbs looked the doctor in the eye. "Don't worry. I'll make sure he gets through this as best as he can."

The doctor nodded. "Good. I'm sure you will." Then the doctor headed down the hall as Gibbs started to follow before detouring to Tim's room. Gibbs entered the room and paused just inside the door before walking all the way in and shutting the door behind him. As he approached the bed, he noticed Tim sound asleep, his breathing even and healthy. Gibbs grabbed one of the chairs under the window and pulled it around the bed to sit on Tim's right side. He silently watched his youngest agent sleep, his gaze drifting over the still form and liking what he saw. The doctor was right; Tim was doing exceptionally well with his physical healing. Hopefully his mental health will heal just as well. Gibbs glanced at Tim's closed eyelids, the purple on his left eye faded to a faint yellow and the deeper purple on his right eye faded to a yellowed green. The stitches in his lip were gone, just as the doctor had said, along with the bandage around his nose; Gibbs could hardly tell that it had been broken just weeks prior. Gibbs let his gaze wander down to Tim's torso, noting the light bandages wrapped around his ribs beneath the thin cloth of his hospital gown. "We're eventually going to have to do something about this gown." Gibbs muttered. His eyes snapped back up to Tim's face when he heard a soft chuckle.

Tim stared up at his boss, a soft smile placed on his healed lips. "Hey boss." He greeted. Gibbs was pleased to hear the strength behind Tim's voice when he spoke, strength he hadn't heard in a long time. "You're here again."

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, I'm here again. You want me to leave?" Gibbs made to stand up.

"No, that's not what I meant." Tim said quickly. Gibbs sat back down, inwardly smirking. "I mean, you can stay if you want. I was just surprised to see you here. You were here around Tuesday and around Friday last week. It's just surprising to find you here instead of at work."

Gibbs shrugged. "Well, you forget that we don't really have any cases right now. Not for a while at least. Director's orders. Besides, I can go where I want; I'm the boss."

Tim smirked. "Right. So how are they? Ziva and Tony? I haven't seen them much lately. They were here almost every day last week until about Thursday." The constant visitations from the rest of his team, including Abby, Ducky, and Palmer, along with Gibbs's constant words of wisdom finally convinced Tim that they truly did care about him enough to not want him dead or willing to put blame on him for something he had no control over. He promised his friends that he would no longer feel guilty about endangering them if they, in turn, stopped feeling guilty about letting him get hurt.

"Well, Tony has finally gotten rid of the wheelchair, courtesy of Dr. Hitsugaya, and Ziva is still in her crutches but the doctor said that she should be off of them in another week or two and will eventually switch to a walking cast." Gibbs took a quick breathe before saying what he knew he needed to say and knowing there was no easy way to speak about it without sounding awkward. "You should be ready to leave soon. Dr. Hitsugaya said that once a few more important things have healed properly, you should be well enough to leave the hospital. Most of your wounds have almost finished healing; it's mostly just your broken bones and any internal wounds that still need healing. Your arm should almost be ready for that cast to come off; just another week or so. But your legs will still need another month or two before you can get _those_ casts off. We just have to wait. Same with your _other_ injured areas."

Tim froze and averted his gaze, trying to look at anything but Gibbs. Gibbs reached out and gently placed his curled index finger under Tim's chin and lifted his head up to look at him. He could see several different emotions running past his eyes. Pain. Fear. Shame. Humiliation. "Tim, you have nothing to be ashamed of." Gibbs said, deciding to tackle the problem he knew Tim would worry about the most. "This wasn't your choice. What happened to you wasn't something you could have prevented, even if you already knew what they were going to do, which I'm assuming you did. They knew what they were doing; they had years' worth of experience with this. Several military personnel, including a Marine veteran, couldn't even defend themselves against those guys." Gibbs paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Although I'm not sure why they attacked you the same way they attacked everyone else and yet they let you live."

"He couldn't kill me." Tim said softly, his eyes traveling down to rest on his lap. "Aaron's uncle, the brother-in-law of the aunt he killed, he came to visit me the other day." Gibbs's eyes widened in alarm. Tim rushed on. "It's okay, he didn't do anything. Actually, he said he heard about me from the news and wanted to apologize. He said that he wasn't going to make excuses for his nephew's actions. But I asked him the same question; why didn't he kill me the same way he killed the others? I mean, I'm glad he didn't but I was just hopping he could shed some light on the subject. It's been bothering me ever since he first attacked me and then let me go."

"And what did the uncle say?" Gibbs pressed.

"He said that it was because I remind him of his mother." Tim said awkwardly.

"His mother?" Gibbs repeated, a single eyebrow raised.

Tim nodded. "Yeah. He said that Aaron's mother was a bit like me; she was kind, smart, gentle, hard to anger, and an all around good person with a big heart. When her husband, Aaron's dad, first started hurting her, she refused to believe he was completely bad. She wanted so badly to believe that there was some good in him and that he was mentally struggling against the bad. She would say that eventually he would win the internal battle and return to normal. Her sister, his sister-in-law, often tried to convince her that he was no good at all and that it was too late for him to change, but by the time she finally realized it herself, it was too late.

He asked me if I was the type of person who tried to keep loved ones out of the line of fire and try to protect them by using myself as a shield. I told him I was and he said that he could tell. Aaron's mother was the same way and had been using herself to protect Aaron from his father. He said that all of these similarities could have been what kept Aaron from killing me in the first place. But when I became too much trouble, he decided to off me personally instead of letting one of his thugs do it." Tim paused before adding, "Plus, he said that Aaron's mother had the same colored hair as mine and the same 'texture' in her eyes. Meaning that her emotions played through her eyes and always gave away what she was feeling. That's how people could tell that she was a kind person. I guess I reminded him so much of her that he felt guilty killing me; like it was wrong some how, because she was the one person he ever wanted to protect and the one person he ever truly cared for."

Gibbs stared at his youngest agent, temporarily stunned into silence. Who would have thought that the bastard who had attacked his agent so cold heartedly actually cared for someone? Then again, this whole thing started because his father beat and killed his mother. Still… "That doesn't excuse him for doing the things he's done. It explains some things but it doesn't _excuse_ them."

Tim nodded. "I know. I never thought it did. But I'm glad it at least gives us a bit of insight into something about his way of thinking."

"McGee…" Gibbs started.

"I know, boss." Tim said. "No sympathy for criminals. I'm not trying to. I just thought it explained a lot." Tim cleared his throat and changed to subject. "So how are Abby, Ducky and Jimmy?"

Gibbs stared at him for a moment before answering. "They're fine. They're still working, so they're busy a lot on other cases but if you'd like, I could have Abby come keep you company."

"No!" Tim exclaimed, eyes widened. Abby was one of his true friends and he enjoyed her company but when he or anyone else was injured, she was like a whirlwind of worry, coddling any injured thing in its path. Gibbs smirked and Tim flushed. "I-I mean, I wouldn't want to disturb her work or anything. And she has so much to do and all. The last thing she needs is to come all the way down here just to keep me company."

Gibbs chuckled. "Alright, I won't say anything. Tony wanted to come down to see you too. He's on his way but he wanted to bring you some real food, instead of this hospital poison they've been feeding you." Gibbs picked up the fork from the food tray from the bed table beside him and poked something on the tray that looked like it could be string cheese but maybe it was potatoes. Grimacing, he placed the fork back on the tray and glanced back at Tim, watching as he smirked. "I thought they were supposed to be trying to **save** their patients, not make them wish for death."

Tim laughed. "I know what you mean. I try not to think about what I'm eating but it's hard when I accidently look at the food."

"This is why I brought you something you and your taste buds can enjoy."

Tim and Gibbs turned to see Tony standing in the doorway, a small picnic-type basket in his hands. "Hey Tony." Tim said, grinning at his partner.

Tony grinned back. "Hey. Thought you might like some real food." He picked up the tray of fake food and shoved it under the bed and placed the basket in its place. He opened the basket and began haphazardly taking things out and tossing them at the end of the bed table: taking out a package of lettuce and a small pack of four tomatoes, a tub of cottage cheese, a loaf of bread, and a package of bologna. Tony's grin grew wider as his partner and his boss stared at the ingredients he had pulled out. "Don't worry; I'm not going to feed you any of this stuff. I just needed some things with strong smells as decoys for the nurses that I knew would inspect the food." Then he reached back into the basket and pulled out a large sheet of napkins tucked at, presumably, the bottom of the basket and placed it on top of the ingredients before reaching back in and pulling out a rectangular tray covered with tin foil and a small stack of paper plates.

As soon as Tony pulled off a corner of the tin foil, the smell filled the room like a wonderfully invisible smoke screen, filling every crevice of the room and pleasantly invading their lungs. Tim could feel his mouth watering as he recognized the smell. "Of course." He said.

Tony pulled off the entire sheet of tin foil and reviled a tray piled as high as possible with slices of pizza. "Some of the world's greasiest, unhealthiest and delicious food in the world. I needed the cottage cheese and bologna to cover the smell." He looked down at the pizza. "I am so sorry for having to cover your wonderful scent. Please forgive me, my darlings."

Tim and Gibbs glanced at each other, Tim's hands covering his mouth as he struggled to keep his laughter contained. When Tony decided to pick up one of the slices and start kissing it, Tim couldn't hold it in anymore and both he and Gibbs burst out laughing, Tim clutching at his ribs as the pressure pushed against them. "Ow." He laughed.

Tony turned and mock glared at them. "Don't you know it's rude to eavesdrop on private conversations? Shame on you." This only seemed to make Tim laugh harder. Gibbs chuckled and shook his head. Tony grinned. "Alright, we should probably get some of this 'healthy' food in you before you die of suffocation."

Tim reeled in his laughter, his grin remaining, and reached out as Tony handed him a plate with several slices of pizza. "I'm not going to eat all of this." Tim objected, glancing at the pile of triangular slices of grease and cheese.

"Tough. You need your strength back and this is the best way to do it." Tony said, handing a second plate to Gibbs. He kept the tray for himself and shoved half of the first slice into his mouth. Tim chuckled and the three of them ate their pizza, enjoying each others company and talking about what's been going on outside the hospital walls. As Tim listened to his partner and best friend talk about how Ziva had practically skewered him in the stomach with the end of her crutches after he had taken and hid them under Gibbs' desk, Tim thought about everything that had happened to them in the past month or so and couldn't help but think about how blessed he was to have such great friends. They were right; this was his family. Tony, Gibbs, Ziva, Abby, Ducky, Jimmy and him were all one big, odd, crazy, unusual family and there was not doubt in Tim's mind that this family would be more than enough to help him get through the emotional trauma that ran circles in his head and haunted the deepest corners of his dreams. With their help, he could do almost anything. He looked down at the still large pile of pizza and smiled. Almost.

* * *

A month and a half later found Tim seated in Tony's wheelchair behind his desk, all of the paperwork he hadn't done piled high in front of him. Tony and Ziva had volunteered to do them for him while he was in the hospital but Tim had refused, saying that he wanted something to do when he returned. The others had agreed and now he sat at his desk, happily sorting through the stacks and wondering which he should get started on first.

Gibbs glanced up from his computer screen and scanned the room for the thousandth time that morning, glancing at each of his agents in turn. Ziva had finally been released from the confinements of her crutches and was just finishing up the last of her physical therapy and Tony had long since ditched the wheelchair, donating it to Tim, and was outwardly glad he was handicap free. Secretly he decided to never take wheelchair confined people for granted. It was tough trying to maneuver himself around in a chair when he was so used to depending on his legs.

Tim had been released from the hospital two and a half weeks after Gibbs and Tony had visited, once his arm and ribs had completely healed. The cast on his thigh had been taken off a week ago and Tony had quickly volunteered to help him with his physical therapy, much to Tim's relief and Abby's disappointment. The cast on his shin and calf should be ready to come off in a few more weeks at most.

Gibbs surveyed his team, glad that they were finally coming back together. Director Vance had allowed their team to be placed back on the roster after Tim had been released and Gibbs had Tony and Ziva training as much as possible until they got a new case. The days had gone by with only two cases so far, and only he and Tony were out in the field. Tim had spoken to an NCIS counselor about his experiences and he was now doing very well, according to the counselor. Gibbs was glad things were starting to slowly return to normal and he, along with the rest of the team, were awaiting the day when the last of Tim's injuries disappeared along with the rest of the nightmare they had endured.

* * *

**A/N: Well there it is everyone. The last chapter has finally arrived! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. I'm sad to say that this is the end but not to worry. I will write more stories soon. For further information on future stories and such, visit my profile or put me on author alert. Thanks and don't forget to review. That means all of you who haven't reviewed yet. This is the last chance you'll get to tell me how I did on this. Don't let me down!**


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